


It Hath No Stalk

by B_Radley



Series: The Minstrel Boy [3]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Brotherhood, Growth, Multi, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2016-10-07
Packaged: 2018-08-15 19:22:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 38,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8069680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/B_Radley/pseuds/B_Radley
Summary: The Clone War has been going on for several months with mixed results for the Republic, the Jedi Order, and the clones of the Grand Army of the Republic. The Republic has engaged in a planet-hopping campaign, attempting to consolidate trade routes and critical resource planets.
A look at one of these unknown campaigns - a campaign symbolic of the overall suffering and destruction of the War.





	1. Conversations Over Breakfast

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes you run into people who change your life for the better. Those people are called bartenders.
> 
> Unknown
> 
> NOTE About Calendars. Before I was enlightened about the Great Resynchronization in Wookieepedia, I made up a couple of dating systems of my own. One dated from Palpatine's reign as Chancellor beginning. The other was the Old Republic calendar. I extrapolated "For over a thousand generations....." A generation is generally thought of as 25 years, so 25988 was the beginning of the Clone War or 13 of the Great Resynchronization, which occurred in 35 BBY (New Republic Dating). Lot of explanation, but I felt I might be confusing people, with some of the changes. Or I am just overthinking it. Either way, enjoy.
> 
> Further reference point: Ahsoka Tano was born in 1BrS (Before Great Resynchronization)

**Takodana  
** **Year 21, Old Style**  
**(Nearly Five years after the Fall of the Republic)**

The meat sizzles in the pan. The cook adds seasoning and watches. His gold-flecked green eyes calmly tracks over another pan heating for eggs. He sips his caf and thinks of the last two days.

He and a huntress had spent those two days laughing and talking about every subject that they could think of. They had spent an inordinate amount of time in a lake, swimming, and holding each other with more laughing and talking.

And yes, there had been more strenuous relaxations as well. An eye from one and they would be finding any privacy that they could to lose themselves in each other.

The cook smiles as he turns and looks towards the pantry. Memories flow through his mind of a gentle lovemaking session inside the tiny stand-up storage when her eyes had beckoned him with a laughing hunger while cooking dinner.

The owner of the establishment had not been amused by the smoke alarms sounding when the nerf-steaks had burned.

The two lovers hadn't noticed.

His smile grows reflective as he thinks back to the two days. They had lost themselves in each other and the light, but there had not been the usual desperate grapplings that had characterized every other meeting.

The simple act of being with one another after three months of almost continuous separation had been the most enjoyable.

He sighs. They had both vowed not to be exclusive and possessive. They had both had their comforts and passions while separated. They both had their 'port calls.' But they had always come back to one another with a laugh and passion from shared experiences and shared dangers.

The talking and laughter had been the most memorable. Of course, he muses, they had talked about everything except what they had experienced on Jakku.

The shared look at his experiences in the inferno of the Clone War. The promised sharing of both of their stories.

He starts to crack eggs for the huntress' omelet.

He drops one as a pair of strong arms circles his waist. The arms, orange with splashes of white on the forearms immediately head south of his waist.

The egg remains on the floor as Bryne Covenant, erstwhile chef, bartender, bouncer, Corellian Security Senior Inspector, Mandalorian fighter, and former Jedi knight closes his eyes and rests against the young Togruta.

With his eyes closed and his heart racing, he manages to gasp out against her caresses.

"Maybe we better hold this off until I finish feeding my huntress. I certainly don't want to burn Maz's kitchen down because said huntress has a different hunger," he manages to get out.

He feels a pair of lips against his neck. "Good point. But if you were really a good chef, you could multitask."

"Maybe I could, if I wasn't trying to play with fire and concentrate on the storm that is Ahsoka Tano."

He feels her sharp teeth on his neck. He sighs and turns the heat off under the omelet pan and lowers the heat under the bacon. He turns and takes Ahsoka into his arms.

He loses himself in the brilliant blue eyes of the ex-Jedi and in her lips. She gives a squeak as he hoists her onto the counter opposite the stove. His hand snakes under one of his shirts and is surprised to find only skin. She Smirks and shrugs at his raised eyebrow.

He starts to go to his knees.

And jumps up as he hears a melodious voice behind him. "Bryne Covenant, you better be picking up that egg you dropped while she was feeling you up!"

Ahsoka squeaks and jumps down from the counter, pulling the tails of the shirt down.

Maz Kanata stands in the doorway of the small kitchen located off of the main kitchen for the bar. She smirks at the sight of a blue and white lek streaming behind a fleeing pair of orange legs.

The lek's blue chevrons are running through the spectrum of blue, as the legs are flushing a darker shade of orange.

Leaving the Protector of Corellia to deal with the smaller orange firestorm.

He chooses to ignore her, hoping she will go away. Or better yet, pursue the other party.

He turns toward the stove and starts his meal preparation for the escapee.

_Fail_.

She walks over to him and peers up at him. She drops her goggles over her eyes. She seizes him by his shirt. "Don't you think that is a bit unhygienic, there, stud?"

"We were on the opposite counter. Plus, this ain't the main kitchen."

_Yeah, that ain't going to fly._

"Really? At least there isn't any burning meat involved while you two were in the pantry."

The warrior throws himself on the mercy of the court. He slumps. Tries to look contrite.

"I'm sorry, Maz."

The judge softens. "I know, Bryne. It is good to see my two favorite rebels and ex-Jedi living again, after watching you both be empty and hollow for so long."

Covenant nods. "Especially her. She has lost so much."

Maz shakes her head. "She ain't the only one, boy. I've seen you at your worst, as well."

She smacks him on his rear. "You would both be fine if you would quit with the self-sacrificing poodoo and just live for the moment. Live for each other."

She raises her voice. "You can come back in here, beautiful girl. The coast is clear."

The escapee returns. She looks at them both. "Don't worry, little girl. I didn't see anything I haven't seen before on many others."

_Too much information, Maz._

The barkeep walks over to the huntress. She stands on a stool from the opposite counter and encircles Ahsoka in a tight embrace.

Maz, while still holding Ahsoka, turns to Covenant. "Throw some extra griddle-cakes on for me and some extra bacon, stud, and I'll forgive the health code violation."

Ahsoka and Bryne look at each other. Maz notices. "Don't worry, children. I am sure that the pantry will be free, later."

XXXXX

Ahsoka sips her caf, as she watches Maz and Covenant laugh over some stupid joke that he has told. She basks in his laughter and the crinkle at the corner of his eyes when he smiles. He looks at her. She gives him her full, huntress's smile--the one with her predator's teeth bared. He nods. _I think he kind of likes that. I've seen him looking at me even when I'm trying to intimidate someone with it._

Probably why it doesn't work on him.

She notices someone else looking at both of them while polishing off her third stack of griddle-cakes with that local reed syrup.

Maz puts down her fork and belches gently. She wipes her mouth with her napkin.

_She's building for something._

Maz grins. "So, when am I going to get some grandchildren off of the pair of you?"

The terrified look on both of their faces is priceless. Especially Ahsoka's.

Covenant recovers quickly. "When the Fourth Corellian Hell melts and the Emperor goes on the Holonet and tells everyone it was just a big ol' misunderstanding."

Ahsoka agrees. "What he said. One, 'Mom,' neither of us has enough responsibility in our little fingers to raise little cling- _themiars_. Two, Until a miracle happens and the one who bears most responsibility for it happening can actually bear and give birth to the little rodents - not going to happen."

"Hey!" the 'one' exclaims. "As I recall, you have never pushed me....." He stops and shakes his head, muttering.

He looks at Maz. "What the hell are you trying to do, old woman?"

"Just acting as surrogate for your parents. Someone has to nag you with all of that 'joining' that you are doing, as they say on her world."

She sobers. "All kidding aside, loves, there is something between you that I can feel. Something that you do want to say to one another. That you feel that you owe each other."

"How, Maz?" Ahsoka asks, her eyes wide. Covenant is silent. Maz looks down at her plate, scrapes up the remnants of her meal.

"It's okay if you lick the plate, Maz. You are old, after all. Everybody expects it," Covenant says.

"I could still go ten rounds with you, _Mando'ad'ika_."

Covenant closes his mouth as Ahsoka Smirks at him. She is careful not raise the barkeep's ire.

"Getting back to our conversation, before I was so rudely interrupted, I can feel it in your Force-signatures, even when Bryne's is fluctuating, but more importantly," she pauses and looks at them sharply, "I feel it in both of your hearts."

They both look down. Since he has already braved the rancor's den, Bryne looks up and nods. "We have both promised each other stories. Stories from our past. Stories that made us who we are."

Ahsoka takes up the mantle. "I don't know if either of us is intentionally not sharing. I think that we have so little time together that we spend it doing other things. Not just that," she says at Maz's expression. "Maybe we just want to spend time on things that are joyful, based on the shithole that we have seen this galaxy turn into."

Maz is silent as she digests what both of them have said. "Ordinarily, I would just counsel you both, as your bartender, to have a drink and get your heads out of your _shebs_. Or I would just on general principles, blame Covenant." Ahsoka laughs at Covenant's expression.

"But, I can't in this instance. You are both loving, caring, people who are caught up in this maelstrom. You have to make time for each other to share your light, to hold the darkness at bay."

She takes a sip of some strange breakfast cocktail from her world. "I realize that you were taught from birth how to hold that darkness at bay, but I would say look at where that organization is with its teachings. You have to find your own ways to hold it at bay. I know that you both still meditate, but I think that you have found your own way to find the light. Whether it is by swimming or talking or laughing, or spending inordinate amounts of time in my kitchen pantry," both parties squirm at that, "or just by your lightsaber practice together."

"But the missing pieces are your pasts. You both have to share them with each other, preferably, in ways that neither of you will go insane." Both Ahsoka and Bryne look at one another and shake their heads quickly. _I didn't tell her,_ resonates in all three minds.

Maz smiles at both and takes their hands in hers. "I am your bartender. Let me help. I'll listen to your stories, no matter how painful, no matter how joyful, no matter how embarrassing to one or both of you." She looks at them through her goggles. "No, I won't listen to any 'pantry' stories."

Ahsoka and Bryne nod. "Bear in mind, loves, that I may not be here for all of these stories. I do have an intergalactic business to run. But you can tell those stories to each other."

The tiny pirate looks at Ahsoka. "I would say, ladies, first."

Ahsoka takes a deep breath. Covenant kisses her on the end of her nose and gives her that easy grin.

**Coruscant  
Jedi Temple  
Clawmouse Clan Quarters  
3 Months after the battle of Geonosis  
Year 13 (Old Style)  
**

The young woman looks at herself in the mirror. She examines her carefully chosen battledress. She hope that it will be acceptable, but knows that offworlders don't often understand Shili's traditions.

She had chosen this particular set of clothing for reasons other than tradition. Her teachers had encouraged her to use her inborn athleticism - the skill in movement that was a particular trait of those hunters and huntresses from her world. This clothing was designed to enhance that movement.

She has always prepared for her fighting by wearing the traditional Jedi attire; even by fighting in it when sparring. She had felt that this would be the best way to prepare, even if she would be granted permission to wear the traditional Togruta hunting attire.

She smiles as she remembers teachers who had been exposed to her world's hunting skills and how they had encouraged her to embrace those same traditions. In particular, a Master-Padawan duo, as different as the _Akul_ and _Akar_ , had been the main source of encouragement for her.

She sighs as she adjusts the brief top. The top and the leggings under the skirt were a concession to the overdeveloped modesty of offworlders, who didn't understand the concept of natural camouflage.

She picks up the final piece of her battledress. She hangs the lightsaber on her belt, next to the sash. She bares her predator's teeth in a proud grin, as she picks up the duffel with the few items she would need on the frontlines of this new war.

Her unfamiliar Padawan beads swing against her rear lek, as she leaves childhood behind.


	2. Investiture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.
> 
> Anaïs Ni

**Takodana  
The Present**

Maz Kanata is smiling as she listens to a Padawan's description of her younger self. "What?" the Padawan asks.

"I bet you were adorable, sweetie."

Ahsoka rolls her eyes. "I preferred to think of myself as agile and fierce."

The barkeep-pirate laughs. "You have any holos?"

"Yeah, but I ain't showing you any."

Maz turns to the other former Padawan at the table. "So, was she cute?"

"I wouldn't know. She was a professional Commander in the Grand Army of the Republic. She was fierce and agile. Plus, we only fought together once during the War."

Both Maz and Ahsoka notice his guarded expression. They look at one another. Ahsoka looks at him with a quizzical expression.

"What?"

"Nothing," he says.

She sighs with exasperation. "Not this again, _Baa'je_. We were both adults when we first made love—that one night on Garel. I had just become a goddamned adult in the eyes of the Republic and Coruscant. I had already been an adult when I took those goddamned teeth." Her eyes flash at him. "We had never been anything more to one another the whole time we grew up together. Our feelings changed. Hell, they changed only two days before we acted on them." She closes her eyes, as if remembering the moment. “You and I both can remember when they did. We remember where and when - the galley on _Opportunity_. You were afraid I would scarf the nerf-steaks you were cutting up for the crew. We kissed each other. We felt the change in our feelings. Together."

He looks down. She  brings her fingers under his chin and raises his eyes to hers. "All that time you were clan master. You made all of us feel powerful because you treated us with respect—equals that you were teaching; but you never treated us like children. That meant the world to us. You have nothing to feel guilty about, my hunt-brother." She grins. "Yeah, everybody in Clawmouse thought that the sun shone out of your ass. But that was hero worship."

She pokes him in the chest. “There is also the fact that the Republic, a few months before we discovered these feelings, was going to have no problem putting me up against a fucking wall with a blindfold and opening my chest up with blasters, or cutting my head off, or strangling me to death, or any of the myriad ways of ending me that I had nightmares about until we found each other again." Her eyes well as she remembers. She can see his anger as he remembers, as well. They both look away.

Maz joins her. She walks over and runs her fingers through Covenant's gray hair. "Your feelings do you credit, Bryne, but what is important is that both of you are here and whole and that you care for each other. Feelings do change."

He looks at Ahsoka. "You did run away on Garel, Runt."

She smiles gently. "I told you why I ran away, Bait. Neither one of us was sure if what we had done was right. You were still a Jedi, even though you were questioning yourself. I certainly didn't know where the hell I was going."

"I know that one of the stories I owe you is about my time in the underworld on Coruscant, right after I left the Order. Yeah, I had to get out of there for a while because it was hazardous to my health, but there was also a boy there that I was getting close to. Might've been running from him, too. Let's not even bring up Barriss and Lux Bonteri."

Both Maz and Covenant raise their eyebrows. She looks them both in the eye.

She sees the gleam in the Corellian's eye. "So, on Garel. I was your rebound?"

She rolls her eyes. "Okay, just shut up and let me tell the rest of the story. There is more than just my outfit in this story. You should be happy--there is even a part about you and what the Council was going to do with you."

"I'll try and listen. My attention does wander."

"Yeah, you are turning thirty next month. I'm surprised you haven't pissed yourself while we're sitting here. You practically have one foot in the grave."

"Don't remind me."

Before Ahsoka continues her story, she seizes the back of his head and draws him to her mouth. Maz looks at both of them fondly.

  
**Coruscant**  
**Jedi Temple**

The young huntress moves easily towards the elevator for the Jedi Council spire. She has stowed her bag near the shuttle that will take her to her new life.

She nods at the faceless Temple guard at the elevator. "Initi- Padawan Tano reporting to the Council for assignment." She grimaces at her correction. The guard looks down at her. She feels amusement rolling off of him in rushes. "Congratulations, little one," he says in a mellifluous Coruscanti accent, tinged with a hint of.... Utapau? She blushes and looks down. The guard lifts her chin up with the hand not holding his weapon. "Look up, always, young one, and think about the things you'll see and do."

She nods. "Thank you, sir. I will," she says. She straightens and pulls to her full height. Somewhere around the guard's sternum. She feels the guard return to his state of harmonious watchfulness.

He waves her in. As she enters the lift, she thinks of the goodbyes from her clan-mates. Their emotions had ranged from the palpable hero-worship of the younger members, such as her young Twi'lek sparring partner and student, Jalen, to the envy and contempt of some of the older Initiates who had not been chosen yet. She shakes her head at one of the latter's parting words to her. _Good luck, Tano, they made a good choice, if they were intending to need someone small to get into tight spaces._

She thinks immediately of one of the phrases she had picked up from her former clan master; one that she could actually use in polite company-- _passive-aggressive._

 _It's in the past, Ahsoka. You're there. Make the most of it,_ she thinks.

The lift chimes. The door opens into her adulthood.

Standing there in the small anterroom, are two tall reminders--two larger-than-life reminders of how she had gotten there. One of them smiling, her huntress's teeth showing.

The other, the one in her world that she has known longer than anyone else. She cannot tell if he is smiling behind his mask, but she can feel the pride coming off of him in waves.

For about half a step, she starts to run towards them, but she suddenly remembers her new adult status. She stops and bows formally to both of them. To the older huntress, she gives a greeting in the trilling tones of their shared language. The huntress smiles and returns the greeting.

She turns a half-step and bows to the Kel Dor. " _Ko-to-yah_ , Master Plo."

His own bow is just as deep. " _Ko-to-yah_ , Little 'Soka.” Both Masters walk over to her. Master Shaak Ti, her huntress' face serene, but brimming with pride, pulls the younger huntress to her in a tight embrace. Her hand runs between her montrals. "You are a credit to your heritage, my fierce little huntress. You will be a credit to your new Master."

Plo kneels and brings her to his shoulder. "I am so proud of you, Little 'Soka. I knew that you would be powerful Jedi when I brought you here to the Temple. You are well on your way."

"Follow us, Ahsoka. You are on the agenda; you may stand behind my chair as we discuss other things. Listen and learn and while nothing is ultra-sensitive, you must not repeat anything you hear."

"Yes, Master Ti." She follows the two Masters into the chamber. She stands in the center as Plo and Ti take their seats. She faces the Council and looks at them repectfully, but with no fear.

"Greetings, Padawan Tano. A momentous day is this," says Yoda. "To a larger world, the first step this is. Of your accomplishment, be proud."

She bows. "Thank you, Master Yoda. Proud I am..." She closes her eyes in mortification, as she suddenly sees herself toiling away at a row of maize-plants in the Agricultural Corps.

She remains quiet. The room is silent.

Until she hears snickers from several directions. She opens her eyes and sees a gleam in Yoda's eyes. "See the influence of your clan master and his Master, I do. Pay no mind."

"Think you the first new Padawan to be overwhelmed by the day, hmm?" Yoda asks. He looks around to his left. "Speak for two days after, Master Windu could not."

The formerly tongue-tied Padawan in question merely glowers at Yoda.

Yoda grows serious. "Trust in the Force, young Ahsoka. Be mindful of your feelings. To the other Masters, listen."

She listens respectfully as the Council members speak some variation on those words, until it is Master Ti's turn. "Remember the Hunt and all that you have accomplished."

Master Plo is the last to speak. "Trust yourself, Little 'Soka."

Finally, Ti gestures to the space behind her seat. She bows. "Speak to you after the meeting, Padawan Tano, with your assignment," Yoda says.

XXXXX

No sooner than she stands respectfully behind Ti's chair, that matters of import are brought for discussion.

"We turn now to the problem on Z'ambique," Windu says. "We have had the 332nd on the planet since they were reconstituted. They have already lost one Jedi General, as Jedi Ortan, who replaced Master Ti, was killed soon after his arrival by the insurgency."

There is a murmur among the Council. "We have sent Jedi Master T'olgar Stoll and his Padawan to take over the campaign. Casualties remain high among the clones due to the insurgency, including Master Stoll's Padawan.

Ahsoka feels Ti tense at the mention of her former battalion. She closes her eyes at the thought of the dead Padawan.

Windu purses his lips. "We have been able to tie the insurgency to Separatist agents. As yet, no battle droids have been found on the planet."

"What is the significance of this planet?" Oppo Rancisis asks. "It is very far out, almost in Wild Space."

Adi Gallia speaks up. "It's significance is twofold. One, it is found at the intersection of two fairly unknown hyperspace routes. If we lose the Hutt routes, which seems increasingly likely, these will be important for us to move through the Outer Rim. Even though, it could never take the place of the volume of traffic that the Hutt routes provide."

"What is the second part of the significance?"

Master Gallia says, "I will defer to Master Che for her technical knowledge."

The Twi'lek healer comes into the center of the chamber and bows. She hefts a small pebble. "Z'ambique is one of only a few places in the galaxy that this mineral is found. We have one other in Republic space; the rest are unfortunately in Separatist controlled space."

She pauses. "This mineral increases the effectiveness of bacta a thousandfold. Its addition to bacta is the reason for its effectiveness. Without it, I have my doubts we could save as many wounded clones and Jedi as we do, as well as treating illness and injury among our citizens."

She stops and glares at Yoda and Windu. Windu nods. "Thank you, Master Che. We will do our best."

Vokara Che bows and returns to her place behind Adi Gallia.

Windu continues. "So, Masters, you can see the importance of this world. It is a backwater, but it is imperative we secure the planet from the Separatists."

Plo speaks. "We have been piecemealing levies of replacements to the 332nd. We are stretched too thin to send any more full battalions, at least until the Christophsis campaign is finished."

_Christophsis? Where in the hell is that? Ahsoka thinks._

"We can only hope that Master Kenobi and his former Padawan, Skywalker can finish that campaign up, soon," Plo says.

"In the meantime, we need a solution for the insurgency."

Ti speaks up. "I have studied the Z'ambiquesenos, Masters. They are a proud, clan-based people. The closest kin we can find in the galaxy at the Tusken Raiders on Tattoine. They are near-human and more advanced, but they hide themselves underneath robes and bandages."

The Masters look pensive as they listen. Ti continues, "They are very insular. They don't like outsiders, until the outsiders prove themselves worthy. They have expressed some interest in joining the Republic in the past, but the Jedi in charge of the negotiations did not read the signs."

"They do not respect the bare face. They are somewhat devious in their dealings; they consider espionage the highest form of diplomacy."

"The leader of the insurgency, Tocque, is a natural charismatic leader. They respect that as well," Ti finishes.

"It sounds like you may have an idea, Master Ti," Plo says.

"Yes, Masters." She pauses, taking a deep breath. "Padawan Croft's task force has proven itself in several unconventional missions, including the relief of the 332nd on Geonosis." She closes her eyes, as if remembering.

"Do you think that your judgement might be impaired when it comes to your Padawan, Master?" Eeth Koth asks. He sees eyes flash from both of the huntresses. He holds up his hands.

Ti calms. "He is an unconventional thinker and to a certain extent Jedi. However, he is a trained Shadow and claimed his own teeth on the Hunt. These are both traits that may stand him in good stead on Z'ambique. Plus, in such a short time, he has melded a talented, diverse group of clones into an effective asymmetrical force, who would follow him anywhere."

"Is he attached to his clones?" Ki-Adi-Mundi asks. Ahsoka can see Ti gritting her teeth. The older Togruta looks back at her and looks pointedly at Ahsoka's body language.

The young huntress brings her thin arms to her side, from where she had them crossed on her chest. She tries to get the _Akul_ teeth out of her expression.

Ti looks at Mundi. "No more than I was when those clones fought and died for me."

Windu looks at her. "Master Ti, your idea has merit, but it is also true that Croft can be undisciplined at times. We nearly kicked him out of the Order with Baldrick."

Ahsoka feels her arms crossing her chest again and her eyes narrowing. She forcefully pulls her arms behind her back and clasps her hands. She looks at the ground.

"Yes, Master. But I also think the fact that he has shed blood for this Order and has solved problems is in his favor." She bares her teeth. "As far as his near-expulsion goes, how long are you going to keep reminding him of that, Mace? How long does he have to atone in your eyes? When will we forgive him a youthful indiscretion?"

The room is silent as she and Mace stare at each other. Ahsoka looks from one to another with wide eyes, her pride in Ti's defense of her hunt-brother palpable.

She realizes that she sees something besides a Master-Padawan bond in that moment.

She sees the love of a Mother-of-the-Hunt for her primary hunter.

Yoda breaks into the silence. "To both of your credit, this discussion goes. Much has Croft to offer. Our only hope of breaking this stalemate, he and his unit may be. Meditate, we will, on this. Trust in the Force we will."

"Young Tano. With me walk to your ship, after your farewells to respected Masters you say."

Ti rises and takes Ahsoka aside. "Master, will Croft be okay? Is Master Windu mad at him?"

"No young one. No more than anyone else. Not everyone knows him like we do. He will be fine. Before you know it, he will be knighted."

She pulls Ahsoka to her again. "Think of yourself, my fierce little huntress. Be careful. May the Force be with you."

"May the Force be with you, Master. My mother-of-the-Hunt."

Ahsoka is sure, as the Master turns away, that she is not the only one fighting tears.

**Takodana  
Present Day**

Ahsoka looks at her hunter, as the tears flow freely down his face.

Maz looks at the tableau before her. The proud young huntress looking at the slightly older hunter with compassion shining in her own eyes.

 _Attachment_.

 


	3. Departure Stations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing can dim the light which shines from within.
> 
> Maya Angelou

**Takodana  
Present Day**

The sun warms. Bryne Covenant sits against a tree, the wet rebel lying against his front. He shakes his head and rests his forehead against her lek. He feels it moving against his forehead in a gentle, contented motion.

He sighs. _Pretty sure that if I was looking from the front, she wouldn't look so contented._ The subject of her consternation is the datapad resting in her hand.

Her life as a rebel doesn't allow for a full week of R&R of turning off her rebel-ness. He moves his face to the side of hers. He doesn't look at the datapad over the shoulder; he doesn't pry. He turns and kisses her cheek. No invitation for anything more strenuous; just raw affection. He feels her relax, the lines on the forehead markings visibly ease.

She rests her head back against his shoulder, the lek moving against the mass of scar tissue that marks that side.

She moves down to where her head rests fully against his torso. She turns on her side. He moves down to where he is lying supine on the rock. With a sigh, she adjusts.

He feels a smile against his skin. "You're being an unnaturally good boy right now. Are you sick?"

"What do you mean?" he asks, running the back of the hand over the sun-kissed left lek.

He feels a gentle tug of teeth at his belly. "Usually if I am this close to your 'brain' we would've been embarrassing Maz's wildlife a bit more by now."

He smiles, continuing his caressing motion on her lek. "Contrary to popular belief, including that propagated by the Procurator-Fiscal and External of the Five Brothers of Corellia, as well as most of Task Force Bard in the Clone Wars, and a certain Elder of the Hunt, I didn't and don't think with that organ all of the time."

He feels the full Smirk along his middle. "Plus," he continues, "all that huffing and puffing, plus the muttered use of words that you taught me......"

"Wait, now," she interrupts, the Smirk growing even more. "You taught me all of those words; you were the acting clan-master. Who would believe an innocent youngling would learn those words on her own?"

"Anyone who knew said innocent youngling."

"Getting back to the discussion at hand, are you okay?" he asks. She closes her eyes at his concern, the Smirk changing to a warm smile.

She thinks about what to tell him, her naturally secret-conscious Fulcrum-persona battling her desire to tell this warrior anything; to uphold her vow not to keep anything from him. "I'm fine. It really is minor. Just some idiots that I am dealing with."

"We all know how well Commander Tano deals with idiots. Do you have to go?"

She can feel his heart beating; waiting for her answer--even with his Force-presence as shaky as it is at this moment.

"No. They have to learn to do some of this stuff on their own."

His relief - almost physical, makes her heart jump.

She changes the subject. "Your troopers--they called you the Warrior Bard in the war. I saw when you earned your name. How come you never sing for me?"

He is silent. For a moment, she thinks that she has overstepped. She raises her head and looks at him. His eyes are closed. She opens her mouth to deflect, when his eyes open. "That is my past, Runt. I have a new path."

She nods, accepting. She lays back. She turns her head to look up at him. She doesn't let him wallow in his memories. "Well, bards can be storytellers, as well. It's your turn, sport. Tell me a story. Something light from that time."

She brightens. "Tell me about Elle and Drop."

"You want details?" he says with a smirk. She doesn't miss a beat. "Well, if you have any. Maz isn't here."

His face darkens. "Not exactly a happy ending, Runt." She looks down. "I know, but I saw some happiness there in your mind."

He gathers himself. "How do you feel about hearing this story in the lake? I'd love to be floating with you just about now."

Without a word, she stands and takes his hand. They walk into the water.

**Coruscant  
Republic Naval Yards  
Republic Frigate 667**

The two opponents circle warily. Their feet test the floor as they inch around; their hands are held loosely in front of their faces. Their eyes are narrowed as they stare at one another. The tension in the room can be felt in the thick, humid air.

The slighter of the two--by only a few centimeters--feints toward the larger. The tall one moves his head back slightly and follows through with a left hook. A left hook that slices through the air...

...Where his opponent's head had been. His eyes widen as he sees that his opponent has suddenly grown shorter; he belatedly tries to block the whiplike leg that has spun around and connected with his ribs.

The left hand has suddenly stopped short and is thrust directly into his stomach. A right cross intersects with his jaw.

Within the space of a breath, he is on the floor.

His opponent raises her arms in triumph. She climbs on top of his flattened body. She looks down on him, the crowing continuing. "Say it," she says with a smirk. "Hell, no," he manages to gasp out.

She gives a little wiggle on his middle. "Say it, little man."

He rolls his eyes and sighs in surrender. "The Republic Navy conquers all."

"Come on, say it all," his opponent says encouragingly.

He looks at her in exasperation. "The GAR eats shit."

"See, that wasn't all that hard, Padawan Croft," newly promoted full Lieutenant Jana Sloane says, "especially when you got your Jedi ass kicked."

"Maybe my Jedi ass let you kick it."

"You just keep thinking that, bud." She gives a final wiggle and then rolls both of them to their sides. She gives the Jedi fundament in question a squeeze. "It's not a bad one, to be honest."

"You're so generous, El-tee." She moves her lips to his. When they come up for air, she lays her head on his arm. They rest, letting their breathing slow from the spar.

Both of them close their eyes and are content. Croft can sense Jana's mind grinding over something.

"What is it, Captain? I can feel you chewing on something in that beautiful and sharp weapon you call a mind," he finally says.

"It's my XO and your First Sergeant."

"What about them?"

"Well, in case you haven't noticed, when they are together and not engaged in mayhem or combat, they spend an inordinate amount of time making goo-goo eyes at one another."

"Really? Hadn't noticed," he says with a smirk.

"Surely you have noticed the noises coming from the XO's quarters. Or the SNCO quarters when Peck is on duty in the medbay."

"Well those noises from the NCO quarters could be coming when the First Sergeant is on duty and when my senior medic and junior comm/tech are both off duty."

Jana's eyes widen. "Really? Peck and Bozo?" He nods.

She looks away. "Never saw that one coming. How could've I have missed it? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Cause apparently I don't give a shit as much as you do, Captain, ahhhh!" he exclaims as she grabs something and squeezes.

"I am not amused, Padawan, that something is going on my ship that could affect its efficient operation," the Captain says.

"Aw, bullshit. You're just mad 'cause you didn't know first. Besides, it isn't affecting anything. I'm just glad that the troops and squids have something to talk about rather than betting on what the decibel levels are going to be when we are in your quarters."

She looks down. "Point taken." She brightens. "Who's the loudest?"

He laughs at her. "No, my Captain isn't competitive or anything." He kisses her and lets his tongue explore.

They lie back down. "So what did you want to talk about with Drop and Elle?"

She looks pensive. "Just worried. She is fragile after Geonosis and loss of her arm, not to mention your friends."

"I would say _was_ is the operative word," Croft says, "I sense a great deal of peace--as much peace as any of us could have. Plus," he continues, "she did take out two Separatist corvettes almost single-handedly, as well as saving our collective asses on the surface."

"Yeah, but I just don't want her to be hurt by Drop. He does have all of the subtlety of a AT-TE."

"I think you are underestimating him. He has a remarkable depth to him, something that I have counted on in the few weeks I've known him," Croft says. "Besides, she has more experience than he does. He is, after all, only twelve years old chronologically."

She thinks about this, her eyes growing distant. His eyes take the same journey to the past, remembering laughter and love.

'You may be right, O wise Jedi. I think her peace has come from being around him, as well as you showing confidence in her. Drop ain't the only one with a surprising amount of depth,Tal."

She runs her fingers through his dark and fair hair. "How are you doing, Taliesin Croft? I see you worrying about everybody else, but you took some hits on that last mission. Being the hood ornament for a Geonosian bug can't have been a barrel of laughs."

"I'm fine."

She rolls her eyes. "What is that Jedi code for? _A major appendage is falling off and I am going insane?_

"Maybe, but in this case I'm okay. Physically, I'm good, although I need to work on kicking your ass, Captain. Otherwise, I'm just trying to stay in the light."

Jana looks at him. "You're doing a pretty good job of it, Tal. Pretty good job of keeping us all out of the darkness. Just make sure that you save some light for yourself."

She lays her head on his chest. Soon they are both breathing regularly. Croft's last thought is of her last statement.

_Am I? Saving enough for me?_

XXXXX

Elle Jaquindo lies on the broad chest of a Null-class commando. His breathing is regular, but she knows he is not asleep, as his broad left hand strokes the smooth skin of her back and ass.

She is awake after their touches had brought explosions to both of them. She smiles as she thinks of those moments. Drop had warned her that he was inexperienced in the actual act, except for experimentation with other clones in their adolescence.

For someone so gruff and supposedly inexperienced, he had been so tender and sensitive to her needs.

"I can feel you worrying about something, _jetti'ka_. Spill. What has got that brow furrowed?"

His amber eyes were still closed. She sighs.

"Drop, I got some news from Healer Che," she says, softly.

He sits up. She places her hand on his chest, soothing him as he starts. "No, Drop, nothing bad. Could be good news for me."

"Let's have it, _jetti'ka_ ," he says with a crooked smile.

"There are new techniques that may be able to restore the nerves on my stump," she says.

He digests this. "What does this mean?"

"It means I may be able to get a working prosthesis. I may be able to get back into the fight, even more."

He is quiet. She grows worried - as worried as a Jedi can. He looks at her directly his eyes gazing into her royal blue orbs.

"Drop. You're scaring me," she says.

"How do you feel, Elle?" he asks.

"I'm asking you first, Drop."

"I'm glad that they will help you heal. But a selfish part of me doesn't want you in the fight any more than you have already been," he says.

Her eyes flash. He puts his hands up. "Hear me out. You did ask. I know what you are capable of. I also know what you have been through. The selfish part of me wants to take all of that away from you."

He looks down. "I know I am saying this clumsily, but it is what I feel."

The young Padawan's eyes grow moist. "You don't have to take all of that away, Drop. It is my right to fight. It is what I was born to do just as much as yours. I am a Jedi. I am sworn to help people and keep the peace."

"It's going to be a moot point for the next three months or so. I have to stay on Coruscant at the Temple for the treatment."

"How long do you have before you go?"

"Tomorrow morning, my Sergeant."

He takes her hand in his and brings it to his lips. "Let's make the most of it, then. Until you return."

Elle kisses him. She reclaims her hand and moves it down to him. She grasps him, feels him growing beneath her hand. She smirks at him. "You're pretty good at tender. I don't want tender right now."

She seizes his lips with hers; can feel his grin. She raises up and sinks down on him, her teeth playing on his broad shoulders. They lose themselves in each other.

Throughout the ship, peaceful demonstrations of the light play out. In the ship's makeshift gymnasium, a young Jedi and a young ship's Captain sleep; their minds both playing their decisions over and over. Decisions that hold the lives and deaths of many others in their thoughts.

In the senior NCO quarters, two clones--two brothers hold each other in the darkness as their hearts and breathing slow.

The light, however, will have to wait, as a heavyset Tholothian gunner shakes his captain and the Jedi awake in the gymnasium.

Within fifteen minutes, the ship, from the XO's quarters to the SNCO barracks--throughout their home, suddenly thrums with the startup of the engines.

Lights snap on. The insistent squeal of a bosun's pipe sounds over the loudspeaker.

_All hands, all hands, departure stations. Set the watch, prepare to raise ship._

_All ashore that's going ashore._

**Takodana  
The Present**

Two warriors float in an ancient lake, their arms and legs entwined about each other, their faces close to one another, as one relates to the other the demonstrations of the light with the inhabitants of that old ship.

Some no longer present; 'marching far away'.

He tells her of the lives entwined. Of the desperate attempts to live, on that, the ninety-second Coruscant night of the war.

He fills in details, as much as possible, from conversations with others on long ship's nights on watch; from impressions gleaned from snatched glimpses of spillover from the other Jedi's mind on board before she left.

He grows silent. She joins him in silence. Their eyes are locked on one another, but they both see their pasts.

Past lives and acquaintances as well.

They both come back to the present; to one another.

Ahsoka looks down. "That was beautiful, Jame. You are a helluva storyteller, Bard." She kisses him; the touch of her lips lingers.

She sees the sadness in his eyes. "Elle and Drop were probably happiest those few days in that dockyard. A lot of things changed after those months on Z'ambique."

"For all of us, _Baa'je'ie_ ," Ahsoka says quietly.

The two warriors, their scars visible and invisible on their bodies and minds, float in the endless blue, their ghosts playing through their minds and hearts.

They hold each other against their darknesses.

 


	4. Spar

**Takodana  
Present Day**

Bryne Covenant ducks as the lightsaber swings in an arc at his head. He shifts left and parries it and the second blade that has joined its twin. He drops lower and swings at the side of his opponent. She brings both blades down to parry his single blade.

"Not bad, Runt," he manages to get out, as he backpedals.

She Smirks, but doesn't reply as she splits both blades and swings at both sides. He is able to parry first one, and then the other.

 _Barely_.

His eyes sting with pride as he experiences firsthand the power and the grace that is Ahsoka Tano.

_Huntress, she has grown so much._

He comes back to himself as she follows her swing with a roundhouse kick to the head. He feels the sting on his right ear as her bare foot glances off.

If he hadn't shifted, he would've been on the ground. She grins her predator's grin - the one under different circumstances would make his heart leap. "Come on old man. I've got your hoverchair over by the lake."

"You weren't complaining about my age and vast life experience last night, brat," he manages to get out, as she feints a thrust to his middle.

"Well, you managed to keep me from being bored last night. Plus we were all out of new holovids to watch," she snarks.

She swings both blades overhand at his head. His single blade and his arm strain as he locks blades with her.

He has to add his left hand to the struggle.

He feels a bare foot connect with his knee. He goes down, but manages to hold the parry. He smiles inwardly. He allows her to press down on his blade. He sees his objective and his opening as her face gets closer to his. _Got to be careful with this or I might lose an eye. Even the powered down sabers might spoil my looks a bit. There we go. There's the opening._

He reaches up and kisses her on the end of her nose. A spot he has aimed for countless times, but never in spar.

_Of course, the last time we sparred, she wasn't even a Padawan._

The move has the desired effect. She jumps back in surprise. His blade deactivates, signaling the end of the spar.

After a moment, she deactivates her blades. Her eyes flash fire. _Okay, I'm in for it._

He smiles. It was worth it to see the expression on her face.

She continues to look at him, the surprised expression giving way to one of thunder.

"Do you take anything seriously, Covenant?" she asks. "These spars could be the difference between life and death."

"Oh, really. I was under the impression that in a fight, anything goes. Especially one in which I am getting my ass kicked."

"Would you have kissed Master Drallig?"

"Maybe. If he had bought me dinner first." He immediately regrets the sarcastic riposte. She hangs her lightsabers on her belt and spins on her heel. She grabs her boots and jacket as she stalks off.

He curses himself as she leaves him standing in the clearing on the shore of the lake. He sits by the lake and gazes across the blue expanse.

He doesn't hear a tiny orange being sigh at the scene she had just witnessed. Her expression is thoughtful as she turns and follows Ahsoka down the path.

XXXXX

Ahsoka walks into the room that she and Covenant had been sharing since they arrived. Covenant's old room had been turned into storage, so she didn't have to worry about any diseases or ghosts that might still be lingering.

Instead, Maz had given them this light, airy set of rooms away from the bar. The suite had its own door with a direct path to the lake. Everything that they needed to lose themselves and not have to deal with the patrons of Maz's establishment.

Everything that they needed.

Of course, when Maz had told them that this was the Chancellor's Suite, they had promptly picked up their belongings and turned around to go sleep near the lake.

The gleam in her eye was pronounced as she had stopped them and told them that the suite had belonged to a Supreme Chancellor from her younger days. She had not said any more on the subject; only had given a sly knowing smile when they had probed further.

Of course, her younger years could've meant any time from five hundred to eight hundred years ago.

Ahsoka shakes her head and closes her eyes as she pulls her lightsaber belt off and slumps on the small couch.

_What the hell was that all about, Tano? He didn't deserve to have his shit jumped in. You've never had a problem with him being a smartass and a part-time clown. You were being one with him, not two minutes before._

Her eyes open to a tiny presence standing behind her. "What was all that about, beautiful girl?" Maz asks, quietly. She comes around and climbs on the couch and sits next to the young woman.

"Honestly, Maz, I don't know. Something just pissed me off about what he did. That he isn't taking this seriously."

"What is he not taking seriously, Ahsoka? Your holiday? Your name-day celebration? The celebration that you are both alive and mostly whole and can spend most of your time laughing and making love by a lake? Is he not taking the stories that you are telling each other seriously?"

"But..."

Ahsoka closes her mouth. She remembers the discussion of the lightsaber practice.

She remembers his reluctance.

It hits her. She thinks back to the spar. Of his movements through the forms. Covenant, or Croft, as he was known then, always was the picture of grace and power when he fought. Even when he was smarting off at Master Ti, his forms were flawless. Even Cin Drallig, the Battlemaster of the Order, a man not known for his sterling wit, had remarked on Croft's ability to fight; had entrusted him with the instruction of impressionable younglings.

Including one sitting here mentally kicking herself.

Throughout the spar, Covenant had been graceful; his strokes had power. But they lacked one thing.

Confidence. Something Bryne Covenant or Taliesin Croft had never shown a lack of in front of her.

She had felt the tiny burble of his Force-signature--that purple and green light, with touches of gold.

The colors were faint in her mind. Even now.

Ahsoka looks at Maz; the pain evident on her face. Maz touches her cheek; places her hand there.

"We haven't sparred since it happened. I haven't seen him use his saber since then."

She closes her eyes. "Maz, I am a fucking idiot."

"No, child. You aren't. Something else is going on inside that head and heart of yours."

Ahsoka looks the barkeep in her goggled-eyes. "You know me too well, Maz. Even after only a few years of actually knowing me."

"I still remember the day that you walked into my bar. Clutching a bunch of lightsabers and Kyber crystals. Still hurting from a knife wound and raw from Order 66. But you were determined to bring light.'

"I know both of you too well. You are both two of the most stubborn people I have ever known."

"Funny, I've been told that exact thing by another pirate that is dear to both he and I."

"Let me guess - Lassa Rhayme. That girl is way too full of herself. Blood Bone Order, my ass. I changed her diapers way too many times, to be impressed by her."

Ahsoka's eyebrow markings are raised. "I was under the impression she had never met you."

Maz grins. "Not as an adult. Her father hid out here whenever he was out of favor with whatever Chairman was in power on Pantora. Which could be a regular occurrence given his personality. Of course, this was before they famously decided to not speak to one another and Lassa decided to shoot him."

The Togruta's eyes bug. "Don't worry," Maz says with the same grin, "it was just a flesh wound."

She grows serious. "Enough distractions. Tell me what is bothering you."

Ahsoka shakes her head and holds up a placating hand at Maz's stormy expression. "Maz, can I beg off? I think that I need to tell Bryne this more than you."

A slow smile crosses the barkeep's orange face. She raises her goggles and reaches over to kiss Ahsoka's cheek. "I think that is the smartest thing I have heard you say in the last hour, my sweet girl."

XXXXX

As Maz leaves her to her thoughts of how she could face Covenant, her eyes fall on a flowing white garment laying on the arm of the couch.

A simple garment that she had worn during her convalescence after Nal Hutta. A garment in which they had first truly held each other and talked after thinking each was dead for nearly four years.

Ahsoka nods as if coming to a decision. She moves her hand to the buttons of her top.

XXXXX

Covenant's eyes are closed as he contemplates his innate ability to let his mouth outrun the electrical impulses of his brain. It's a talent. _Wonder if it is from the Corellian or Mandalorian side?_

_Probably the Corellian. Mandalorians aren't known for their sparkling wit._

He thinks back to the duel; tries to see in his mind the entire duel, as if it was one of the holovids that they had passed the time between conversation and inventorying the pantry in the small kitchen.

Nothing that had happened could lead any sane person to conclude anything other than he was a total ass.

As his exercise in blame assignment continues, he feels the tiny blue and orange spark that is his indicator now that she is in his close presence.

He starts to rise, but feels a pair of strong hands on his shoulders. He looks up at her.

His chest seizes as memories return. Of another bright day in this clearing. Of walking up and seeing her whole and healthy, of the joy and uncertainty that he had felt.

From both of them. Of a white garment pooling around bare orange shoulders in the warm sun. Of the expanse of skin dipping almost to her waist.

He shakes his head, as if to clear it of that image. _Can't think of that right now._

He feels her sit behind him. Her arms encircle him. Her face presses to his back.

"Jame..."

"Ahsoka...."

Like that time months ago, their names run together.

He steals the initiative. "Ahsoka, I am sorry that I upset you. I don't know what I was thinking..."

He breaks off as she moves around to his front. She straddles him and pulls him close. Her face rests against his chest to where his face is against her left lek. He can feel the movement of the lek echoing her words.

"That's my line, Bait," she says softly. He starts to speak. Her lips still his. "No. Me first," he hears against his mouth.

She pulls back. Her blue gaze ripping him open. "I shouldn't have jumped in your shit like that. Hell, you didn't even want to spar. I know now why you didn't; should've known then."

He starts to speak, thinks better of it. She plunges ahead. "I know what you have lost. I put you in a position that you had to think about what you lost--what you gave to me when I was hurt and needed to get back into the fight, to find Nola's attacker. I realize--have realized that you did what we had vowed to do to continue to fight with each other."

His intense gaze in her eyes unnerves the warrior for a brief second. She continues the campaign. "You sacrificed so that I could carry on the fight."

He is silent. "I would do it again. And again," he says, finally. "My problem today was not just the fact that I could barely touch the Force. I think that even if I was fully operational," she smirks at that, starts to say something, but thinks better of it. “I would've been struggling against you. You have grown so powerful. I was further struggling as I could only think of how proud I was."

She looks down. He continues. "I am sorry that I didn't appear to take the spar seriously. In a way I didn't, because I didn't think I was a worthy enough opponent for you to even exercise against. I deflected by being a smartass. I am sorry," he repeats.

"Jame Blackthorn," she says using his full name. The one that he was born with. "The day that you aren't a smartass--the day that we aren't smartasses to one another is the day that we probably need to check our pulses.” She drags her fingers over his chest, up to his face. “But the other part of this is that I think I am detecting a little bit of brown seeping into those eyes of yours. You are so full of shit. Even without having the full Force ability, we were fighting to a draw. I couldn't see any way to win that match. Every thing that I threw at you, you threw right back. That is what I need. I don't have anyone else to challenge me. In spite of what I said, I don't think I'll be checking you into an old-folks home anytime soon. So quit feeling sorry for yourself." The last is said with a full, warm smile.

She grows serious, looks down. "There is something else on my mind. I got another comm. Some things may have broken with my problem children. I may have to leave early."

"The idiots?" he asks.

"The idiots," she confirms. "They have managed to get themselves conned out of a substantial amount of credits that they had been given. In the process they may have compromised another cell."

He curses, then looks down. She raises his chin to meet her gaze. "Hey, it's not a given. I am going to try something a little different. Lassa knows some of the idiots involved - maybe even knows who conned them. She will poke around a bit."

He looks skeptical. "Are you sure? Lassa's idea of poking around might involve several proton torpedoes."

"Counting on it. I think lessons need to be learned."

He laughs. "I've just been feeling like I was going to learn what it was like to be on your bad side. Glad I didn't." He looks at her with his direct gaze. "So you care for a rematch of that spar? To see if I still got it?"

She returns his look with an unfathomable expression in her depthless blue eyes. "No. I don't care to." With that, her hand snakes to his waist, and below. She manages to unbuckle his belt and work the buttons of his pants.

His breath draws into his lungs in a sharp intake as she grasps him with her cooler hand. His eyes close as she feels him grow in her hand. Without a word, she pulls closer to him. She sweeps the robe open and wraps it around both of them. She brings him to her and lowers herself on him. There is no subtlety to their joining. Two bodies seeking--no--seizing each other's light. Their explosions come quick--almost unexpected.

As their breathing and hearts slow from the all-to-brief onslaught; as she feels his release warming her; she pushes him back to the ground and lays on him, still connected. "Don't worry, old man," she manages to gasp out. "You still got it."

She slaps his chest. "So. Tell me another story."

"Nope. Your turn. Tell me about Stinky."

Their laughter joins as they once again seek each other's pasts, as she begins to speak, to paint him an image of a tiny girl, a mewling Huttlet bound to her back in the desert night. A tiny girl fiercely defending the spawn of a vile, murderous criminal, from four-so-much-larger than her tinnies - not because of any trade routes or political need. Nor even because her new master trusted her enough to ask her to do it.

But because the Huttlet was helpless. Because it was the right thing to do.

She doesn't see his eyes well as she laughingly recounts the story.

 


	5. Welcome to the Suck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The General
> 
> ‘Good-morning; good-morning!’ the General said  
> When we met him last week on our way to the line.  
> Now the soldiers he smiled at are most of ’em dead,  
> And we’re cursing his staff for incompetent swine.  
> ‘He’s a cheery old card,’ grunted Harry to Jack  
> As they slogged up to Arras with rifle and pack.  
> . . . .  
> But he did for them both by his plan of attack. 
> 
> Siegfried Sassoon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: We may be delving into "that's not how the Force works" in this one. Don't know what has been published about Jedi Shadows in their abilities, but going with my headcanon. All will be explained.

**Takodana  
Present Day**

".....and Jabba pretty much sentenced us to death, even though we brought Stinky back to him.” She takes a sip of her ale. “I asked my Master if that happened to him often, as we were standing there with our lightsabers, ready for another fight." 

"What did he say, beautiful girl?" Maz asks.

"He said something like 'Every time.' Ahsoka's eyes grow misty as she remembers. "Huntress, I was raw. It was a miracle that I survived, that I didn't get my Master killed, and I didn't wind up in the Agri-Corps."

"Wasn't a miracle," the other ex-Jedi in the room says, quietly. She looks at him; at their clasped hands. They are seated before a fire in the Chancellor's suite. Maz silently watches them and sips her ale. "I saw the reports from Cato Nemoidia before," he pauses "your trial. You were incredible when you saved your Master from those buzz droids. Saw your interviews with the news reporters. No hint of that snarky little shit who nearly got me killed on the Hunt."

She nods, unable to speak of that time. He reaches over and kisses her forehead.

Maz smiles as she takes in the two warriors. Hunter and huntress. She thinks about the scene that had greeted her as she walked to the clearing in the lake. Two warriors wrapped in one garment, their arms about one another.

The younger of the two lying on top of the other. Both breathing in sync; slight smiles on their faces. Both at peace for the moment. She had cleared her throat. They had both started awake. She had turned away with a smile as they scrambled to disengage the array of limbs and other parts entwined.

As soon as they were both decent, or at least clothed, she had led them back to the suite and dinner prepared by her cook.

 _Not up to Covenant's standards,_ To his credit he didn't complain.

They had continued Ahsoka's story from the point where they had both fallen asleep. She seemed to remember falling asleep in mid-sentence describing the flight of the giant insects.

Maz finishes her ale. She stands and says. "Since I am the senior citizen here, I will call it a night. You two get some sleep. You're not allowed to curl each other's toes for the rest of the night. Sleep, my children."

"Yeah, my old man needs all the beauty sleep and rest he can get before he turns thirty," Ahsoka says with a smile. The gentleness of the smile takes the sting from the words, as she sees him looking down.

She knows the weight on his shoulders on Corellia for that particular name-day. She has seen his eyes looking at the horizon when he thought she wasn't looking.

The responsibility. The duty. The weight of both from his father's family, particularly Draq' Bel Iblis, the Dragon of Corellia and his uncle. She places her hand against the silver chain around his neck.

A silver chain that holds a signet and a single Akul tooth. Companion to those in her original headdress.

A symbol of the one title--his birthright--that he doesn't reject.

_Protector. The Covenant._

She sends a silent thought to him; hoping that he can sense it, as close as they are. _I know._

He looks at her in surprise. His eyes narrow. He leans over and places his forehead against hers.

They don't notice that Maz has slipped out of the room. "Can we stay here on the couch, _Baa'je_? I know you were probably thinking of more...."

He smirks. "I was only thinking of my insatiable huntress."

She kisses him gently. "There'll be plenty of time for that, ' _ie_ ," she says. "I want to hear more stories. I love how you make me feel when we join, but I want to hear more of your story during the war."

 _Will there_? he thinks, _Be plenty of time?_

Her words are matched by her intense blue gaze, looking into his eyes. The gaze nearly overpowers him.

"I didn't get you anything for your name-day," he says, changing the subject. Deflecting as much as he did earlier with his sarcasm.

"What else do I need, except for the stories of my hunt-brother and his life when we were apart?" She says this in the language of her birth, her trills cutting through him.

Her lips gently touch his, as she pushes him down. Instead of climbing on top of him, as she would in more strenuous moments, she places her back against his chest and her head on his shoulder. She pulls her leggings off, leaving her clad in her underwear and top. He smiles and pushes her up.

His trousers and shirt joining her leggings on the floor. She runs her hand over the fresh bite marks on his chest and shoulders. "Wow. Something tore you up."

"I seem to have been wrestling an _Akul_ beast sometime in the last rotation or two."

She Smirks and kisses the marks "Musta done pretty good. The beast came back for more." She rolls on her back again, lying against him in a contented heap, her rear lek moving against his chest.

He turns his mouth to her right lek. "What do you want to hear, my hunt-sister?" he asks.

He can feel her thinking. "I want to hear what happened on Z'ambique before the 501st and 212th got there. You and your troopers--both the 332nd and your commandos seemed to be on the verge of breakdown. I thought you were all dying with that damned cough."

"It felt like we were. Every outworlder--especially humans who spent time moving between the desert where the refineries and the resources were and the coastal lowlands where the city was--caught that damned hack. Took us all a month to get it; within a couple of days we were hacking our lungs up. The filters on the buckets weren't doing any good, even the commando helmets. I am just glad I didn't have to hear you coughing like, that, Runt. That you and your forces weren't on that shithole long enough." He falls silent again

She looks up; sees his eyes get that distant look again, over her montrals. She gently bumps her montrals against his cheek. "Imagine my surprise when that shorter commando officer walks up to my Master, Master Kenobi and me and pulls his bucket off and it is you, _Baa'je_."

'"Yeah. I was trying to avoid getting dead, as well as trying to hide my face to negotiate with some of the disgruntled insurgents."

"I know." She closes her eyes. "I remember thinking how old and tired you looked after a month there. You were about the age I am now."

He changes the subject.

"What's this 'shorter' shit, Runt? I ain't exactly Baldrick, you know."

"Just wanted to bust your balloon a little bit, there, Bait. Although, you were short compared to your ARCs, smaller compared to your Alphas and tiny compared to Drop."

He starts to say something, but since the evening was not progressing for an inventory of the pantry, he refrains.

She notices as she wiggles her ass against him. "Good choice, smartass."

He turns back to her lek and returns his mouth against it. She can feel his lips against her, his tongue and teeth gently playing as the lek moves against his face.

She smiles and says. "Tell me your story, Bard."

He begins to speak.

**Z'ambique  
LZ Valorum  
The Past**

Croft grits his teeth as he looks at the Zabrak Jedi Master. _There is passion, yet serenity._

"Padawan Croft, or I should say, Commander Croft, since you seem to delight in your military regalia and your clones. You do not have my permission to kidnap a citizen of a sovereign planet. Use your commandos however you want to, I don't care. But don't come to me with idiotic schemes to end the fighting. We are only going to win this planet by outlasting the insurgents. Not by any fancy scheme dreamed up by a jumped-up Padawan who doesn't know his place."

Croft looks the Zabrak in the eye. "Just so you know, If I had my way, I would not have any military title. I am a peacekeeper. But these men whose lives are in my hands, observe these rituals and 'regalia' as you call them. I give them the respect they deserve and follow their traditions."

"Then you are a fool, Padawan. These clones are property of the Republic, not men."

The clone standing respectfully at parade rest behind Croft is silent.

Croft closes his eyes and attempts to center himself. "I am not advocating assassination, Master. Merely removing Tocque from the scene. Without his influence, the insurgency will fall apart." He pauses. "The Z'ambiquesenos live for charismatic leaders. I have been cultivating an alternative."

"Ah, yes. Your little 'Shadow' expeditions. I have tolerated them up to now. They have given us some marginally useful intelligence. But I think that they will come to an end."

"Master Stoll, I am merely trying to preserve life. Our clones are dying. We're only getting piecemeal replacements. We cannot hold out with your 'attrition.' I am looking to find a way to keep our troops alive."

The Zabrak looks down at Croft. "Do not presume to lecture me on Jedi tenets, little one. I was a Jedi long before you were born. He smirks. "I think Master Ti was much too indulgent with you, Croft. She was probably making up for her failure with her dead Padawans. You are undisciplined and an insult to the Order. You should've been expelled with your little friend."

Something snaps in his heart. His feet lock to the ground, as Ti has often described his recalcitrant stubbornness. He starts to unlock his feet and move towards T'olgar Stoll.

He feels a meaty hand digging into his shoulder and holding him. He turns and looks at the expressionless T-visor with the red drops of blood painted under the eye. A jewel attached to the forehead of the _buy'ce_. Drop gives an imperceptible shake of his head. _Not the time, al'verd'ika. Not the place._

Stoll notices. "You should take your clone's example, Croft. He at least understands discipline. I am going to make sure that you never are knighted. I am next in line for a Council seat. I will make it my life's work to see you expelled. You are an insult to Jedi traditions.” He looks down his nose at Croft. “There will be no more little expeditions to the capital. You will obey me."

Drop turns to the Master. "General," he says, his respectful voice dripping with contempt, "that is where you are wrong. You have no authority over my Commander. He reports to General Windu and General Yoda. You are the senior officer in the theater; commander of this poor battalion, but you have no authority over any of us." 

Stoll's eyes bulge. Drop continues. "He was sent here to clean up your mess. So if he wants to put on somebody else's face and go into the rancor's den, he will.” Croft can feel the grin from behind the bucket’s mask. “Also, you might want to be careful talking about General Ti. There is a reason that these men have those white circles around their eyes in the colors of their buckets, with little marks above the eyes. This was her battalion. It's not yours."

"I could have you shot, clone," Stoll says dangerously.

"Wouldn't be the first time that I have been threatened with that, General. By better men than you. I am a clone. I was born to die for the Republic and for my Jedi. Commander Croft is my Jedi."

Croft's eyes sting. He shakes his head at the Sergeant. _Stop, my hardheaded Null. Quit while you're ahead._

"If we are talking about dead Padawans, I don't see yours around breathing and upright. Seems he got expended in some useless attack. Attrition.” He comes to attention. “You know where to find me, General if you're still interested in that firing party."

With that, he salutes and spins on his heel and exits the room.

After a moment of staring at the Master, Croft turns and follows him.

XXXXX

"You know, you really are a dumbass," Croft says as they walk through the dusty camp streets.

"I learned from the best, Tal," Drop says. He looks ahead as the medic, Peck runs up to them.

"You both might want to come to the medical tent.

"Stooge?" Drop asks.

"Yeah. It ain't long, now. He's in a coma."

Drop and Croft follow the medic into the tent. Drop removes his bucket. They walk up to the airlock to enter the isolation room's observation chamber.

Drop turns to watch Croft; to see the emotions play across the young Jedi's face. He watches the trooper struggle for breath; the Alpha's frame is dwarfed by the medical appliances trying to force air and nutrients into his failing body.

"Get me the fuck in there. He needs to know that we are with him," Croft says. Peck nods.

"Come on in. He is the only one in there for now. I can't do anything else for him." Croft enters the room. Drop, Gregor, Alpha, and his squad mates follow him. They gather around the bed, as the drowning noises from Stooge's lungs cut through them. They each touch some part of his body as the breaths become more shallow.

Drop looks at his Jedi's face. For an instant, he sees something dark there, in the midst of the pain. It is there for a fleeting instant.

There is silence from the bed.

Croft hears the _Vod'e_ in the room begin to recite their Remembrances. He turns to leave. Peck and Drop follow him out.

"Sir, we have to prepare Stooge for the return to Kamino," Peck says.

"What?" Croft says. Drop answers for the medic as that thunderous expression returns to the Jedi's face. "Longnecks require that all 'clone tissue' be returned to them for disposal. Something about proprietary rights."

Croft is silent. He closes his eyes. Drop sees his feet lock to the floor. He opens his eyes. The green gaze falls on both clones. "The hell with them. Report his body destroyed. I don't care. I'll sign off on it. No trooper from this unit will be sent back to them. Bury him with respect."

Peck looks at Drop. "Yessir," he says. He turns and exits. Drop looks at his Commander.

"What?" Croft says.

"Taliesin, we don't know what that means. To bury him with respect," the Sergeant says quietly.

Croft looks as if he has been punched in the gut. Drop continues. "To us, once a brother dies, he is marching far away. We Remember him in our own way. We'll recite every stupid thing that he ever did. We'll extol his accomplishments--the fact that you kept him when you fired or demoted just about every other Alpha--simply because he cared about the normals under his command."

The Jedi is silent. "Send him back to the longnecks. We don't care. We know that you honor his life and his death."

Croft nods. "Okay, Drop. I'll tell Peck....."

"No. I'll handle it. You need to go somewhere by yourself, Tal."

"What do you mean?" Croft asks.

The Null looks at him. "You're getting that look on your face. The look that says "I don't fucking know how to keep my men alive in this shithole with that idiot in charge."

He touches Croft’s cheek. “Go somewhere. Drink yourself into a stupor. Jerk off. Read a book. Don't care what. Don't think about Stooge's death. Think about the fact that through four months of a galaxy-wide war, you kept every man of us alive. Through ten extremely dangerous missions. That you gave Stooge an extra four months of life." He pauses. "Think about how you are dying right now with his death. Think about what that means to these men."

"So how many more are in danger?"

"Hell, boy, we're all in danger. The tents sound like lung wards. I don't think any of us are in danger of dying anytime soon, at least not from the crud. Something about Stooge's makeup made him vulnerable. We'll live, but we need to finish this shit."

"Working on it, Drop."

"We know you are, Bard. It's why these men will follow you to hell and back." He puts his bucket on. Croft follows suit.

As they make to leave. Croft says, "I am taking your advice and going off alone. I'll need a drop from a gunship in the Capital city."

"That's not exactly what I had in mind, _Vod_ ," Drop says.

"Well, there is nothing to drink except in the capital. I read the last romance novel last week. Don't much feel like self-abuse."

He hears the snort come from under the trooper's _buy'ce_. As they turn to part. Drop grabs the back of Croft's bucket and brings the forehead to his. They both rest there for a moment.

Croft breaks the mood. "Why, First Sergeant, I didn't know that you cared."

"Don't let it go to your head, _al'verd'ika_. This doesn't mean that we're going to take warm showers together until the wee hours of the morning," he replies in the time-honored fashion of senior NCOs everywhere.

As they part, both of them nearly go to their knees with coughing fits.

_The standard Z'ambique greeting among friends. Welcome to the Suck._

XXXXX

Croft walks into his tent. He removes his armor and his bodysuit in record time. He picks up a collection of ratty leggings and shirt and dons them. Twenty minutes later, he is clad in a wrapping of bandages. His face is bare.

He kneels and begins to meditate. He focuses on his face in a mirror. As he goes deeper into the Force, he pulls from a tiny part of his mind.

A part that even his Master has never delved into. A part in the shadows of his mind. He feels his mental shields dropping; the bond with his Master seeming to roll up. He feels her pain, as he does in the rare instances that he delves into this particular shadow.

His face starts to shimmer in the evening light, with perception changing into a distortion.

For an instant, he sees what others will see when this energy manifests itself.

Where his bearded visage with its Padawan braid had been, the face of an elderly Z'ambiqueseno remains. The wrinkled visage with the wide blue band of skin around his black, pupil-less eyes.

His face morphs back into his own, as he sees his own image. He turns towards the tent entrance. Drop stands there, his eyes no longer startled by the transformation. Croft/not Croft pulls a set of bandages over the face and dons a torn and stained cloak with a hood.

He can feel the energy draining from his Force sense as he walks next to Drop. _Hope I've got enough to last._

The shadow blends in next to the trooper.

 


	6. Skullduggery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Do you know what love is? I'll tell you: it is whatever you can still betray.” 
> 
> John le Carré, The Looking Glass War

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A slight Easter Egg for zinjadu. I think you'll recognize it. Hope you enjoy.

**Takodana  
The Present**

Ahsoka turns over on Covenant and pulls him towards her as he reaches a stopping point. She eases him to her chest, as she strokes his gray hair.

He gently pushes himself away and looks into her eyes. "I'm okay, Runt."

"I know you are, Bait. Not going to stop me from holding you to me."

She repositions herself against him.

"So that is what a Shadow can do. I never knew."

He shakes his head. "Not all of them. We were chosen for any unique abilities that we have. Master Vos had his psychometry--the ability to get impressions from inanimate objects. Baldrick had his affinity for electronics and mechanical things--the ability to manipulate them. It's what makes him such a good slicer."

"You sure it wasn't his affinity for farm animals?" Ahsoka asks innocently.

The ale explodes from his mouth at the unexpected riposte. _She finally got me._

Their laughter is a welcome respite.

As soon as it dies away, she asks, "What is yours? How does it work?"

He takes another sip of ale. "I have an innate Force-ability to blend in. My shields are also in the highest percentile. Or were."

"Were you an apprentice Shadow? Or full-fledged?" Ahsoka asks.

"Full-fledged. I took the Trials right after I recovered from your Hunt."

She nods. "What was the thing with the face?"

"Little thing that I picked up in my studies. I was permitted to work on it by Master Yoda." He smiles. "Ti was reluctant, because of the energy that it took, plus I could only do one or the other - couldn't shield and present a different face at the same time."

He laughs gently, as if remembering. "I only actually used it a handful of times - I think the times on Z'ambique took up about three of those."

"After the Republic fell, I concentrated on shielding. I can blend in pretty much anywhere without having the Force." He smirks. "Guess I have that forgettable kind of face."

She doesn't smile. Instead, she brings his face to hers and kisses him. "Not to me," she says.

He looks down, flushing.

"Of course all of my 'difficulties' with the Force may stem from my dabbling. I was the first in a thousand years to try it."

He sees her eyes flash at that, but the thunder leaves her face as she nods.

He sees the Smirk playing across her beautiful features.

"So, Bait," she says with a devilish gleam in her blue eyes, "did you take requests?"

He raises an eyebrow. "Who did you have in mind?" he asks suspiciously.

The Smirk turns into a full-fledged grin. "There was the lead singer in a band, back in the day."

His eyeroll can be felt on Coruscant. "Not that damned boy-band you were on about. What was it--Hyperspace, Hyperfool?”

Her expression sheds about twenty degrees in temperature as she replies. "That would be 'Hyperlove."

"Ahh, that's it. Wait a minute--I thought you said on Alderaan that I was never to speak of your boy-band phase."

She says nothing, only glares at him.

He plows ahead, ignoring the warning signs. "Well, anyway, I don't think that you would want to see his face, now. Hell, he was thirty when you had the hots for him. The reunion tours are probably not very flattering."

She continues to stare at him. A smile quirks her lips. "How do you know so much about them, Bait?"

"Self-defense. Just to have something to talk about with you when you were going on and on about them."

"Still, that's a lot of knowledge, there, bud, for conversation. How do you know how old he was?"

He looks down. "There was a holozine in the doctor's office after Wild Space..."

"Sure, Bait. You go with that one."

Their shared laughter is more sustained in this instance.

Ahsoka grows serious. "You said it took a lot of energy from you. Is that why you looked so bad when we finally saw you?"

"Maybe. I had just gotten back from a meet with my disgruntled insurgent, trying to put the final touches on trying to end that hell."

She lays back against him. "Can we sleep for awhile, Bait? Maybe we can take breakfast and lunch down to the lake and swim. You can tell me more and I can add some too."

"Sure, Runt. Sounds like a plan."

She sits up and pulls her top off. She lays back against him, skin to skin. She takes his hand and places it on her breast. She clasps his other hand in hers.

Her eyes grow heavy as she feels one of his thumbs start to stroke her wrist, lulling her, easing her. At the same time, his other thumb gently rubs over her sensitive nipple, increasing her breathing, her heart rate, and the warmth between her legs. Both competing. She makes a decision. She starts to turn towards him, to bring him awake.....

The lulling overpowers her as she loses all thought and slides into the darkness of sleep. As he follows her, a gentle smile can be seen on his lips.

Seen by a small orange being standing over them later in the night, tucking the sides of the blanket over and around them. A small orange being who places a light kiss on each of their foreheads before she leaves.

 _Respite_.

**Z'ambique  
Cornat (Capital and only city)  
The Past**

The elder 'queseno known as Tanith walks through the crowded marketplace, his face hooded as is proper for adults on the Gift. He is calm, as he moves easily through the crowds, the smell of chewed spice wafting and overpowering the air.

His own clothes and body hold the same smell; but anyone who could see his black eyes would see that they were sharp and undulled. Much less so than a child of the Gift as old as he would be expected after a lifetime of use.

Of course, if anyone could see his face under the wrappings and hood, they would be reaching for the ritual double-ended bladed clubs slung on every adult's back. They would seem to see his face fading in and out, being replaced by another.

Tanith walks towards a low door, his senses attuned to the small cone around him, as well as committed to suppressing the sternum-breaking cough that would have resulted in his immediate public evisceration. As he gives an agreed-upon knock, he does not notice a large hooded figure behind him; a figure awash in the arcane energy-field of one of his faces' birthrights.

The figure doesn't notice several others slowly tracking him; so absorbed in his annoyed tracking of Tanith.

Tanith doesn't hear the volley of stun bolts that intersect with the large hooded figure's body. He falls, his hood slipping off, revealing horns dotting his head, as well as a bronze-colored skin.

XXXXX

Tanith is lead into a dark room by several large specimens of the Gift's finest. They have already subjected him to a highly personal search--but nothing intrusive. His mask remains in place. His club rests across from him against an opposite wall. He is shoved into a seat at a low table. Flames in bowls of brimming, rendered fat light the small room. He looks directly at the 'queseno sitting across from him.

"Tell me, Tanith. Are you Orthodox?" the man asks. The two of them speak Basic, as the spoken language of the Z'ambique have been lost to antiquity.

"Don't know. Depends on how well Orthodoxy pays," Tanith replies.

"So you might not know why we call our world 'the Gift'?"

"Not really. Never given it much thought," Tanith replies.

"It is because we consider its riches as something to take. It is a gift for whoever is powerful, as well as underhanded enough to take.” The figure pauses. “You have asked, me, Lorcan of Gift's helm, to betray my word to Tocque, who may be the Gift's last hope," the figure opposite Tanith replies.

"No, I am merely pointing out that Tocque might be the most powerful, but he isn't the most underhanded. You might be, if you help me find him."

There is a commotion in the corridor behind Lorcan. A figure walks through the door.

Under his wrappings, Tanith raises his brows. The figure stands there with his face exposed to the world.

"Here I am, stranger. Why do you seek me?" the Charismatic known as Tocque says.

 _Well, you found him dumbass_ , not-Tanith thinks, _now what?_

**Takodana  
Present Day**

Ahsoka wakens to the sound of a deep and hacking cough against her chest. A cough that cuts through her ribcage to her heart.

She comes fully awake as she realizes that the cough is coming from her own chest. She feels a pair of warm hands against her ribcage, as she opens her eyes to a pair of panicked green eyes.

"Come on, Runt. Get out of it. You're here. On Takodana. Please come out of it," Covenant says.

She closes her eyes as another coughing fit tears through her lungs. He lifts his hands from her ribs and places them on her forehead.

Ahsoka violently shakes her head from side to side. Her own hands come up and grab his. She is torn again by the coughing and drops her hands.

Her eyes close as a feeling of warmth flows through her. That primordial warmth she has felt once before.

_No, Baa'je. You could hurt yourself._

_Shhh_ , is all she hears in her mind. _It's mine to give, Ahsoka._

Her eyes snap open. The green eyes staring down at her are no longer panicked--something she had never seen before. They are filled with their customary warmth and humor, as well as something else undefinable. Something that makes her heart flip, as well as a lower area twitch.

It is the rest of his face that tears open her heart. His face has that same ashen look that he had the first time he had shared so much of himself for her.

She reaches out to the Force; she smiles when she feels the annoying little buzz of his Force presence. Shaky, but there.

She puts her hand on the signet hanging around his neck. Next to the old tooth.

 _Protector_.

"Hey," he says.

She tries to speak, but discovers that her throat aches. "Hey, yourself," she manages to rasp out.

She sits up. Takes inventory. He hands her a glass of water.

"Please stop doing that, Covenant," she says, stress in the name. The true title.

He makes a non-committal noise, but looks down.

After a moment, she reaches over and kisses him. Their tongues gently explore each other. Her hand ghosts below the covers to his middle. As he is kissing her, he says, "May I go on record as saying that the afflicted person is the one initiating this action?" She says nothing as she pulls his head to her breasts.

"I will bear witness to that," says a melodious voice from the door.

With a squeak, the afflicted one pushes Covenant away. She pulls the blanket up over her chest. "Maz, don't you fucking knock?" Ahsoka asks. "This is the second time."

"No. Not at noon in my own establishment. Plus I've interrupted twice out of how many times?" The huntress doesn't answer as her orange complexion turns a deeper, brighter, hue.

Maz motions behind her.

A small server droid, a tray balanced on one claw delicately trundles through the door.

The other claw decorously covering its photoreceptors.

The droid places the tray on the table next to the couch and exits. Maz walks over and Smirks at the blanket pulled up over Ahsoka's chest. "Don't worry, beautiful girl. I have a pair, too."

Ahsoka and Covenant both blush at that.

She reaches to the tray and hands Ahsoka a mug. She accepts it gratefully. She sips it and smiles. The tea has an unknown citrus base, but it is the inherent warmth at the base that soothes her throat and eases the ache in her chest.

A warmth not provided by the fire that had melded the concoction.

She looks at Covenant, who has moved back behind her on the couch. "So what the hell was that?"

"I don't know," he says, "apparently someone has been poking around in my dreams again."

"Not intentionally, Bait. I said that I wouldn't do that without you, again."

He nods. "I know, Ahsoka."

Maz looks at them both. "What did you see?"

"I saw a meeting where Bryne was disguised. A meeting on Z'ambique. The only place we fought together in the War."

"Was there illness involved? A cough?" Maz asks.

Ahsoka is pensive. Covenant allows her to answer. "Yes. For off-worlders. Bait and his troopers had it. We never got it because we weren't there long enough, apparently."

She falls silent again, thinking of the past. "That's just it. He was using the Force to suppress the cough when he was posing as a native. He wasn't coughing."

Maz smiles. "I probably shouldn't say it, but somebody has to. The Force works in mysterious ways." All three of them smile at that.

Covenant looks at Ahsoka. "I'm sorry, Runt. I never wanted to hear you coughing with that crud. When you got there, I so wanted to finish the fight - to get you and the rest out of there before you caught it."

She smiles gently. "You did, Bait. You got us out of there."

"Maybe you should continue the story, Bryne, and you, Ahsoka. You've been so deep in the past; that if you tell the story, neither of you will dream about it."

"Well, I am afraid that I really don't feel like going to the lake today. There is something in that tea that soothes my throat and chest, but I really don't want to do anything but lie here. Sorry, Bryne, if you had your heart set on it," Ahsoka says.

"Nope," he says, "since we've been here, we've been working so hard at relaxing, that we haven't spent a day not doing anything. Between swimming, and cooking, and running the trails, and sparring; not to mention the getting interrupted by vertically challenged barkeeps....."

"Keep it up, Covenant. I'll fix it where you won't be so interested in those activities. You'd be surprised what you learn as a barkeep. I also wouldn't talk too much about being vertically challenged."

He sticks his tongue out over Ahsoka's left lek. Maz shakes her head.

"Tell your story, little man," she says. Ahsoka lies back on his chest.

XXXXX

Tanith gazes at the bare face before him. The azure stripe that signifies the regional affinity of the Z'ambeqeseno, differs from his own. The blue slash runs diagonally through one eye.

The black eye is clear and gazes through him. As is its companion.

Something cuts through Tanith's persona. He starts as he feels his soul probed.

"Just trying to take advantage of the Gifts that are our birthright," he says, hoping to move the probing insight away from him.

The black eyes are steady on him.

"So why do you bare your face, in defiance of our traditions, Tocque?" He is direct, as he searches the room for weakness. For escape. He counts steps towards his club, resting against the wall.

"I feel that we have hidden ourselves for too long; that we have killed each other for too long in the interest of the 'Gift.'

 _Yeah and the Seppies'll be glad to help you with that,_ not-Tanith thinks, unbidden.

He feels a sense of worry slipping in from a rolled-up thread. A powerful presence. _Please concentrate, Taliesin. Concentrate on getting out of there. I don't want to have to take that braid from your body._

He centers and concentrates on what Tocque is saying. "Count Dooku may offer us a new path to this," the bare-face says.

_There it is._

"As a matter of fact, there will be an arrival of further aid from our ally. Not just the weapons that helped with our other guest."

Behind his wrappings, Croft's eyes widen. The import of what his opponent says hits him as if with one of the clubs.

He drops the Shadow. His shield and his bond return to their full power. He judges the distance to the club in earnest.

_Like a third-rate holodrama villain, he's outlining his secret evil plan. I think that my time may be short._

"I find it interesting that we have no visitors to our city and all of a sudden, we have two strangers in our enclave," Tocque says, motioning behind him.

Tanith starts as a buzzing knifes through his head. A figure is dragged into the room. A figure who looks at him. A figure who looks through him.

T'olgar Stoll is bound, his robe missing. A shock collar, one that Croft has seen before; has even worn in a test, encircles the Master's thick neck.

A collar that is triggered by any use of the Force. A collar developed by Zygerrian slavers during their past conflict with his Order.

Tocque speaks to him, looking at Stoll. "This is the test, 'Tanith,' if that is your name. I sense it is not your face."

_Yeah, as soon as I get out of here, I am going to be thinking about that 'sense' of yours._

Tocque nods at one of his followers. The minion grasps the handle of his club and pulls. A wavy blade, with an attached hook in the middle is bared. Tocque takes the blade. He reverses it; hands it to Croft.

"You know what the script says, Tanith," he says. "Place this in the Jedi's guts. Or yours will join his on the floor."

Croft takes the blade. He hefts it. The weight is that of a much larger object. The size of the Jedi Temple. He looks at Stoll. Stoll's lips curl at the sides. He nods his head imperceptibly.

_Do it, young one._

Croft closes his eyes. He waits for the director of this particular holodrama to yell, 'Cut.'

He reverses his grip on the blade; his hand tightens.

 


	7. Stopping the Bleeding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Mystic as a Soldier
> 
> I lived my days apart,  
> Dreaming fair songs for God;  
> By the glory in my heart  
> Covered and crowned and shod. 
> 
> Now God is in the strife,  
> And I must seek Him there,  
> Where death outnumbers life,  
> And fury smites the air. 
> 
> I walk the secret way  
> With anger in my brain.  
> O music through my clay,  
> When will you sound again? 
> 
> Siegfried Sassoon

**Z'ambique  
Cornat (Capital and only city)  
The Past**

The man formerly known, for a brief time, as Tanith the elder, stands with a ritual evisceration blade in a reverse grip.

An audience of expectant Z'ambeqesenos watch for his next move. All of them finger the double blade-ended clubs that they have unslung. He walks over to the kneeling Jedi. He gently pulls him to his feet. He looks into Stoll's eyes.

He sees understanding, as he contemplates his next move.

"Come on Tanith," Tocque says. "We don't have all day."

Two of the larger minions walk over to the Jedi Master. They yank his tunic open, baring his belly.

Croft, the man known as Tanith the elder for a brief time, closes his eyes. They snap open under the mask.

He makes his choice. The only one a Jedi could make.

He plunges the hooked, wavy knife into the chest of the Z'ambeqeseno who has maneuvered up to his right. With his left hand, he swings around. The soldiers of the Gift are knocked over like pins in a game by his flagging Force-energy. At the end of the arc of his swing, a resting club is pulled into his hands.

He grasps one end of the club. Instead of a ritual blade, a meter-long shaft of green plasma is bared.

Jedi Master T'olgar Stoll, for his part, is not idle. He swings his bound hands, the strength of his powerful frame behind the action to knock down another two Z'ambeqesenos coming up. He sees the lightsaber unsheathed and instinctively drops as Croft vivisects two more of the soldiers attempting to stab the Master.

Stoll closes his eyes. Electricity crackles in his shock collar arching over his powerful frame as he touches the mystical energy field. His teeth clench as he demonstrates why he is a Master of the Order that binds he and Croft.

Despite the pain, he is able to snatch his own lightsaber from its place on the belt of one of Tocque's guards. The blade flies into his hand; he reverses it and severs his bonds.

Stoll rises, the collar still arcing electricity into his body. He turns to Tocque's area in the room.

He screams as the charismatic leader plunges his own blade into his belly. The leader gives a gentle smile as he draws the blade across the Zabrak's muscled stomach.

Croft adds his own primal scream to the noise in the room. "No," he yells. As the Zabrak falls, the knife still in Tocque's hand, pieces of the Zabak cling to it, Croft charges the leader.

His lightsaber is a green blur. With his left hand, he flips a hidden stud on his club. The rest of the club falls away from a small cylinder.

A cylinder emitting a building whine. Croft tosses it at Tocque's group of bodyguards. He reaches out with his mind and pulls Stoll's bleeding body behind him, as he turns and exits.

He makes it to the alleyway as the room's oxygen detonates in a ball of fire. He listens at the chaos he has caused. The building that he has just left behind is in flames. The fire is rapidly spreading to adjacent buildings and growing to a white hot conflagration. He smiles and pulls Stoll behind him to put distance between them.

Ten blocks over, after weaving through deserted alleyways, he gently lowers Stoll to the ground. The Master's face is wracked with pain, as Croft attempts to stop the bleeding.

The Zabark's insides have been ripped open and bulge from the open wound. Blood soaks his clothing and the ground.

Croft places his hand on the Master's forehead. As his own rapidly draining Force energy flows into the Zabrak, the Master's face grows calmer.

He knocks the Padawan's hand away. "No, young one," he says. "You'll need it more than I will."

Croft looks down. Stoll smiles. "You are still a poor excuse for a Jedi, Taliesin," he whispers in a fading voice, "but you are growing on me."

He looks up at Croft's pained expression. With effort, he reaches up with his left hand and touches Croft's face. Croft can feel the blood on his hand. "Do not worry, Padawan, there is no death, only the Fo....."

His hand slips to his chest, as his face grows still. Croft closes his eyes.

He hefts Stoll's huge frame and slings him over his left shoulder. He can feel Stoll's insides draining onto his clothing. He gathers both his and Stoll's lightsabers. He turns towards his memorized route. He does not use the Force to carry Stoll.

He owes it to the Master.

The Force is also the only thing keeping him upright and the wracking cough at bay.

XXXXX

Null-13, known by his Jedi and officers as Drop, and his troopers as First Sergeant, stands in the door of the gunship approaching the Z'ambique capital, thinking about how Jedi were going to be the death of him.

First, his commander, Taliesin Croft had decided to use some Force-hoodoo to put on a dead Z'ammie's face and go on walkabout - right into the center of the insurgency - Tocque's own family enclave.

Not just once, but twice.

Then, T'olgar Stoll, the Jedi Master who had threatened the Null with extinction against the nearest wall, had suddenly called for a gunship to take him into the city.

He sighs. _This after forbidding the Bard from doing his walkabout._

He laughs to himself as he thinks how even he has adopted Croft's new nickname. Those commandos, who Croft had inherited before Geonosis, would follow their Jedi Padawan to his nine Corellian hells and back--even the remaining Alpha planks.

His laughter dies as he thinks of Stooge, the lone casualty of the commandos. An Alpha who had survived the Great Croft Purge as squad leader. A popular and promising squad leader, who had watched over his men with the same passion and care that Croft watched over everyone in the Task Force.

He looked over at Gord, the new squad leader of Chaos. An Alpha who Croft had demoted when he failed to train and care for his ARCs. Drop had felt comfortable recommending his return to Gregor and Alpha-17, the two officers.

Since his demotion, Gord had used his experience to keep the members of his squad alive during those eleven hairy missions. He had supported his new ARC squad leader, Mope, guiding him gently through his integration. Unlike Stark, whose contempt for his ARCs had resulted in injury to Bozo, the junior Comm/Tech.

Croft had fired and transferred Stark. Drop closes his eyes. Apparently Stark didn't survive the initial attack on Christophsis.

He smiles as he thinks of another rehabilitated soldier. Jedi Padawan Elle Jaquindo. Acting Executive Officer of Republic Frigate 667. He reaches up and touches the jewel attached to the center of his _buy'ce_. He thinks of their stolen moments in her quarters. He, a meathead of a clone. A clone who was considered a misfit even by other Nulls. She, a broken Jedi, who had left her arm and her two friends in that arena on Geonosis.

He can feel the heat under his bucket as he remembers their last desperate night on the _Bucket_ , as the battered light frigate had been dubbed. Her soft cries as he had reverted back to 'gentle' as she had laughingly dubbed his clumsy attempts at pleasing her.

She had placed her fingers over his lips when he had called them clumsy. She had shaken her head and kissed her way down his body to his center until his head had been lit by the colorful explosions. _Never call yourself clumsy, Drop. I call it thoughtful and sensitive._

He smiles at what she had called him after he had reciprocated. _My Null._

He feels a blow against the back of his helmet. His smile disappears as he turns, prepared to tear someone a new...

"Come on, loverboy. Snap out of it," says one of the three men in this unit who could talk to him like that and still be breathing at the end of it.

Peck brings the forehead of his bucket to Drop's. "Stop thinking with your lower half, _Vod_. Listen to the flyboy."

Drop shakes his head. "What?" he says simply.

One of the gunpod troopers speaks. "Off the port bow, Sergeant."

The First Sergeant grabs the handhold and leans out. He uses the rangefinder on his bucket. He sees a figure trudging away from the city. Bowed, but not broken under a much heavier burden.

"That's our boy, Pilot. Let's get him."

XXXXX

Drop jumps out of the gunship before it flares in for a landing. He can feel Peck and the rest of Chaos following behind. He walks up to the figure.

Taliesin Croft continues to trudge forward. Drop gently puts his hand on Croft's unburdened shoulder. "We got you, Tal. We'll take him.” The clone's modulated voice is surprisingly quiet as he looks at Croft's hollow face.

He sees the tears streaming down the young Padawan's face. His bulky body hides the Jedi from the rest of the troopers. His gloved hands wipe the liquid from his Commander's face. Croft closes his eyes and centers himself. He looks up at Drop and nods. The Null pats him on the cheek and allows the other troopers up to greet him.

Peck and Gord gently take the Jedi Master's body from Croft's shoulders. The dead Zabrak's insides pull from Croft's clothing. Blood has washed his entire front. He hands the Master's lightsaber to Drop.

Drop hands Croft a water bottle. The Jedi drains it and hands it back. "Report," he says tersely.

"The large Seppie fleet has jumped in. Much more than our small task force can handle. They of course jumped out. Leaving us and high and dry."

"I expected it. Tocque as much as told me. Don't think he expected me to still be upright."

"Oh, so you had a confab with the big bad."

Croft winces. "Yep. Learned some things. Like the fact that our adversary is a Force-user."

"Marvelous."

"What else is going on?" Croft asks.

"Before they jumped and turned tail," Drop says, "the squids said that the Seppies were landing near the capital. We might be getting the hell out of here, before we are right in the middle of the best ground."

"Let's move. Get to the ridge behind us, so that we can see our new neighbors," Croft says.

He turns to the gunship. Peck catches him as he collapses in front of the door. "Or we could leave you and the squad on the ridge to monitor their progress and report back and I can take our new ranking officer back to the LZ to recuperate," the medic says.

"Sounds like a plan, _Vod_."

XXXXX

Drop looks out over the landing area. Droid carriers are landing in echelon dropping their burdens. The droids form ranks near a prefab fortification and command center being lowered into place.

Two words immediately come to mind. Words that he has heard their Commander use on several occasions. Usually when things don't exactly go as planned.

_Well, shit._

"Looks like at least three reinforced battalions, plus the locals. Pretty sure with what the Bard told us that the local crazy can scare up another five battalions of fanatics," Gord says, as he lowers his rangefinder.

Drop grunts. "Yeah. A shitload of problems for Croft when he wakes up from his little nap. Sure hope Peck can get him up soon."

Bozo speaks up. "Hey Drop, it's Gregor." He hands the First Sergeant the comm interface.

"Drop."

"Thanks for the intel, Drop," the Clone Captain says. "The Jedi keep calling. I let them know that their latest General was dead. They thanked me for the information and said they would get back to me; to hold fast."

"Tang was here with me; he's the ranking clone officer behind Croft. He's sending some of his ARCs to reinforce your OP. He's also sending one of his officers to take command. The three of us want you back here. We don't feel you should be out there manning an observation post."

"Nice to know that you care, Captain."

"Get back here on the next gunship."

"It may be a moot point. We have incoming STAPS."

"Shit," Gregor says, "Gunship's enroute, but I don't think that it will make it in time for support."

"Signing off. Getting busy, Gregor."

"Drop...."

"Gentlemen," Drop bellows. "Prepare to defend yourselves."

"Inbound target, Drop," Bozo yells.

"No shit, idiot, I can see them for myself."

"Not in the front, Drop."

Before he can reply, he can hear a familiar, laboring engine noise. The ten STAPs explode in succession, as a battered Republic frigate screams in. It slows and moves more deliberately toward the disembarking droids. A series of explosions dot the landscape ahead as the frigate loops upward towards space.

Drop and Gord look cautiously through their rangefinders. "The _al'verd'ika_ must be pretty good in the sack," Drop says dryly, "or else Sloane wouldn't have bothered."

"Hey Gregor," he says on the comm. "Make that two battalions of clankers."

**Takodana  
The Present  
**

Ahsoka Tano, known to most only as Fulcrum, stretches as she comes awake. Her right hand falls on the rumpled spot of the bed.

A spot that still retains warmth. She sits up, tuning her Force sense to the man who had warmed her bed for the past several days. She smiles when she detects the colors of his presence.

She swings her legs over the side of the bed, wincing at the soreness of her thighs. A smile upturns one corner of her lip, as she remembers. She pulls herself out of the bed and pads to the 'fresher.

Within a few moments, she has grabbed a small piece of meat and walked out the door. She is clad in exercise gear - a simple tank and shorts. She is as barefoot as any huntress on her world. She finishes the meat and starts to run.

She figures she doesn't need to stretch. She charts a course along the path, running around the longest part of the lake.

An hour later, she has circumnavigated the lake. She slows to cool down. She smiles as she sends out a Call from her montrals. She spots her prey. She walks deliberately towards him. She stops short. Her eyes grow troubled as she sees Covenant.

Sitting alone on a rock, looking out over the lake.

She walks slowly up to him. Her senses--both natural and supernatural, detect the slight smile as she walks up.

She puts her hands on his shoulders and reaches down. She places a kiss on the top of his head. Her fingers run softly through his gray hair.

"Hey," she says.

"Hey, yourself," he responds as always.

"Missed waking up next to you, Bait. You might've gotten lucky, again."

"Already was. Just getting to wake up next to you."

"You're such a charmer, hunt-brother," she says with a Smirk. She sits next to him. She sees his expression.

His eyes are light-years away. "What's wrong, Jame?" she asks, her expression worried.

"I may have to go back to Corellia early. Family matter."

"Does this have something to do with your name-day?"

She doesn't mention what that date entails.

"It may. May have something to do with the remnants of our favorite storytelling subject." His eyes look at the rock that they share. "May have to go back to Raxus."

"What do you mean, back?" Ahsoka asks.

"Been there a couple of times. Neither one ended all that well."

She reaches over and kisses him. "Then I want to make the most of what we have. It's all that we can do, handsome.” She touchs his cheek. “Come back to the room. I'll get cleaned up, we'll grab some breakfast, if you can stomach Maz's new chef's cooking." He smirks at that. "We'll talk. We continue to tell our stories. We still have to get us on the same planet and you knighted."

"Plus you have to break a few of my ribs," she finishes. Their shared laughter splits the air. She grabs his hand and pulls him up, easily. As always, he marvels at the strength of the arms that hold him when they are together. The strength of a warrior and a huntress.

They turn towards the path. "So tell me, Bait. Before you got easily distracted last night, we left you asleep on the job. Why did you collapse?" she asks.

"Price of being a Shadow, Runt. Not only did I lose all of that Force-energy, I lost most of my energy lugging Stoll back, as well as keeping that damned cough down, so I had to replenish it. My body shut down."

She grows pensive, stops their march back to the Castle. "I never knew it took so much."

He smiles. "Yeah. My research into the old texts talk about practitioners of this--ability--that actually lost weight while using it. Noticeably. It's why Master Ti didn't like me using it. She felt it was too risky."

"I can see why, ' _ie_ ," she says. "How much more did you use it?"

"Only a few times more. One on Z'ambique, and one or two at the end of the War."

She notices his expression. She leaves him to it. He shakes his head slightly and turns towards her.

He kisses her on the end of her nose. "So what does that mean, when you use that suffix without the root word? That's the second time you've said it like that."

She looks down. He can see her flush slightly. "Nothing. Just a shortened form."

She pointedly doesn't meet his eyes. She turns to continue their walk.

His eyebrow raises. "What, Runt? Do you not trust me? Or do you not trust yourself?"

She stops; her eyes flashing. She masters her expression. "You are one of about a dozen people or so in this Galaxy who know that Ahsoka Tano is still alive and not just someone named 'Fulcrum' or 'Quartermaster', as most of Lassa's crew know me. I think that I have proven to you that I trust you."

He nods, dropping the subject. "So must of Lassa's crew don't know your name?"

"Yeah. Most of the ones that knew me from Garel are dead or left the crew and think I am dead. Only her gunner and navigator know my name."

She Smirks. "The rest just know me as the Quartermaster, or as one of Lassa's conquests."

"And you do nothing to dispel that, right?"

The Smirk grows predatory with the addition of sharp teeth.

"I let them know quite plainly that Lassa is one of mine."

Their shared laughter, once again, echoes down the trail.

A small orange being listens to it as she is counting credits in her office. It wafts through the open window. She smiles as she counts.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	8. Before Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Come in this hour to set my spirit free  
> When earth is no more mine though night goes out,  
> And stretching forth these arms I cannot be  
> Lord of winged sunrise and dim Arcady:  
> When fieldward boys far off with clack and shout  
> From orchards scare the birds in sudden rout,  
> Come, ere my heart grows cold and full of doubt,  
> In the still summer dawns that waken me. 
> 
> When the first lark goes up to look for day  
> And morning glimmers out of dreams, come then  
> Out of the songless valleys, over grey  
> Wide misty lands to bring me on my way:  
> For I am lone, a dweller among men  
> Hungered for what my heart shall never say. 
> 
> Siegfried Sassoon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of the scenes have been portrayed in another story of mine, albeit a bit differently and from different points of view.

AAAaZ'ambique  
 **LZ Valorum  
The Past**

The new Padawan looks through the open door. For the fourth time since the lartie had entered atmosphere, the blue trimmed Clone Captain with the _J'aig_ eyes had grabbed her shoulder and hauled her back from the edge.

 _Well, either Rex or Cody had._ Finally, a glare from the scarred blue eye of her new Master had encouraged the Togruta to reach her thin arm up and seize the handhold.

Her master, Anakin Skywalker, himself a Padawan only three months before, looks with amusement at his former Master, Obi-Wan Kenobi. The Padawan catches a glimpse of a long-suffering smirk from the Jedi Master.

Ahsoka Tano can barely contain her energy. She can feel Rex glaring at her from behind the T-visor of his _buy'ce_. She looks down at the deck of the lartie. She remembers how Master Ti once described her hunt-brother. Of his stubbornness, of appearing to lock his feet to the deck when he felt that he was right. Her mother-of-the-hunt always knew she would have to be at her best to argue the logic of the opposite position.

She had also said that the move appeared to center him, like no amount of meditation could.

Ahsoka closes her eyes and concentrates. She concentrates on her small boots locking to the deck. A wave of calm washes over her. She opens her eyes to see her Master raising his unscarred eyebrow at her.

Obi-Wan merely nods and smiles approvingly at her.

_Probably wouldn't be so approving if he knew how I did it._

She feels the lartie flaring for its landing. She steels herself. She has been through one campaign; has fought four Magna-Guards single-handedly, all while carrying a squawling, stinking Huttlet. She can face anything that this world can throw at her or her Masters.

She follows her Master and Master Obi-Wan at a respectful distance. The two clones are greeted by three other clone officers - each of graduated size, all the way up to one who appears gargantuan to the tiny huntress.

She notices that the three officers bend over and cough in unison. They had all been here for at least a month. For an instant, the thought comes unbidden to her mind. _Is this what is in store for us?_

She shakes her head of the thought. She sees Anakin and Obi-Wan talking to someone in Phase I ahead of her; she realizes that she has strayed behind. She walks faster to close the gap. As she does, she is struck by the familiar pull of the person that she knew was here.

She tries not to run. Her Master's bulk obscures the clone trooper. She tries to crane over the trooper, but she sees no other Jedi.

The clone officer, with the insignia of a Commander on his chest and—is  _that a Jedi signet on his bicep—_  reaches for his helmet.

As it comes off, her eyes widen. There, is the shorter, but still shaggy beard and hair, along with the forlorn Padawan braid of her hunt-brother in the traditions of her people. Her youngling clan Master, who was her first instructor in lightsaber forms. In history. Of practical field knowledge.

Her eyes take in the armor, the helmet. When they reach his face, they register the gaunt, tired eyes. Eyes more filled with pain than even when his broken ribs had lanced into his lungs on that _Akul_ hunt two years ago.She loses his eyes as he doubles over for his own coughing fit. His is much less sustained than the clones, as she feels the Force energy rolling off of him in waves. She forces herself to listen to what he and her Masters are saying. His normally warm Corellian drawl is torn to a raspy near-whisper.

A rasp broken by a laugh at something that Obi-Wan Kenobi has said. His smile is broad, but it isn't reflected in his eyes.

She has never seen his eyes this guarded. _I am glad Master Ti can't see him like this._

Ahsoka makes her choice. She steps around her Masters. His eyes widen. For a brief moment, his eyes laugh.

The pain returns as they bow and exchange pleasantries. She can see her Master looking thoughtfully at her, as she explains the Hunt to them.

Croft finally turns and puts his bucket over his eyes.

She is spared the view of his pain; but not the sense of it, cutting through her own Force-sense.

**Takodana  
The Present  
**

Covenant lies on the rock, looking up at the stars. A blue and white head is pillowed on his stomach. His eyes are light years away as Ahsoka finishes her story. His hand absently plays along her right lek.

His eyes seek out a particular light - a tiny, winking bulb. A tiny window with a dust filled rock. A dust filled rock that nearly killed both of them, but instead fostered such growth in both of them. A place barely worth the gravity to keep it in orbit, but a place where some of the finest soldiers, naval crew, and Jedi fought and died for each other. More than for any idea or ideal.

His mind comes back to the weight on his stomach. He looks down as he feels her head turn towards his. He sees her eyes glowing in the darkness with an azure light, reflected in the bright stars and the small campfire behind them.

She lifts her hand and lays it on his cheek. He turns into the touch. "I could scarcely believe it was you, Jame," she says. "I had never seen you so tired or in such pain, even when we were Hunting together."

He nods. "Mine was nothing compared to what my troopers were going through." His eyes burn though her, as he adds, "I wanted to finish that goddamned job so badly so that you and Anakin and Obi-wan and your troops wouldn't have to suffer what the 332nd and the Task Force had."

Her hand gently moves from his cheek over his face. Her fingers rest on his lips. "I know, Bait. I saw how much you cared for your men." In the dim light, he sees her smile. "I learned from the best what it meant to care for your troops. Anakin showed me on my first mission how much he fought to save his troops; to get back to them when he gave his word. I saw how the deaths tore him up, especially on the _Malevolence_ mission."

"But I learned from you during that brief time we fought together, how much you cared. Not just for their lives, but their basic well-being. I have been lucky in my teachers," she says. She grows quiet. He can feel the sadness welling in her Force-sense.

He sits up and leans down over her. She turns her head back to the sky. His lips touch hers, gently. When they break for air, he looks her in the eye. "We didn't have to teach you much, Runt. You were already filled with compassion."

Ahsoka raises up and pulls him to her, squeezing him hard. They pull apart. Covenant pulls a small stoneware bottle from behind him. Ahsoka Smirks as she realizes where she had seen the bottle before.

On a shelf behind a small pirate's cluttered desk in her office. Right next to a blaster.

He pulls the cork and takes a swig. His eyes light up, as he gives an approving nod. He hand it to her. She takes her own dram.

She closes her eyes as the smooth brandy warms her. She shivers. Covenant pulls her to her feet.

They walk back to the campfire. A small bedroll waits there; several blankets pulled back. They sit on the bedroll and lean into each other. They sip the brandy in silence, looking at the fire.

Ahsoka speaks first. "Why were you wearing the armor and the helmet, Bait? I know that you told me a bit of it.”

He takes a breath and exhales. "The previous two Jedi refused to take any precautions. They walked around in their robes; with no armor. You could say that they were unafraid. I say they were foolhardy. I presented Stoll with intelligence that Gregor and Drop had uncovered that said that the insurgents wanted to kidnap a Jedi and use him for leverage."

He takes a sip. "He as much as called me a coward. Even as I had presented him with evidence that this was what they were trying to do when they killed his predecessor. Ortan managed to get himself killed within a week of his arrival."

Ahsoka sees his expression as he looks into the fire; traveling back across the years and light-years. She runs her hands through his hair. "You told me how much Stoll's death affected you. Drop told me, too. He said you were somehow different after Stoll died. Why did it affect you so much, especially with how he treated you and Drop?"

"Because I couldn't save him. It happened on my watch. I wasn't able to convince him that what I was doing was the right way to go. I wasn't good enough."

He can feel heat coming from the huntress leaning against him. "Bullshit, Croft," she says, inadvertently referring to him by his old name, "you've told me before that I couldn't save everybody. Didn't matter that you were this shit-hot Shadow or whatever. Stoll died because he was too arrogant to expect that the Z'ambiquesenos would be a threat to a Jedi Master. He walked in there and got himself and nearly got you killed."

She takes her own sip as her heat builds. "His only redeeming feature from listening to you was the fact that he fought beside you to get out of there."

He is silent as the heat recedes. She reaches over and kisses him on his ear. He yelps as she uses her teeth on the lobe.

"What the hell was that for?" he asks, incredulously. "It was a reminder, that I will always burst your bubble when I think you are getting too full - either of shit or of yourself, ' _ie_."

"Do you think that you could do it without actually puncturing me?"

"You don't seem to mind me biting you other times."

He closes his mouth. She stands up. "I'm cold. I think we should combine body heat like all the survival manuals teach." Her Smirk can be seen brightly outshining the stars.

"My huntress is actually cold? Usually you are saying I am too warm," he says with his own grin.

He turns and banks the fire for the night. As he finishes, he sees that she is already under the covers. She lifts them up and beckons him in. Her clothes are piled next to the bedroll.

He smiles as she pats the roll beside her. "Come on. You know what the books say. Off with the clothes. We have some more stories to tell before I curl your toes."

"How about a little toe-curling first?"

"Priorities, lad, priorities," she says, as she takes him in her arms.

**Z'ambique  
LZ Valorum  
The Past  
**

Taliesin Croft's feet are firmly planted on the deck. Ahsoka sees that his head is down; his eyes flash fire. His cough-ravaged voice is quiet, but she has heard the fire that is in it before.

Usually when he was defending one of his Clawmouse students from outside threats or disciplinary actions.

"Master Windu, with all due respect, you have not been here for a month. We will be spending our troopers' lives, needlessly."

"I understand what you are saying, Padawan Croft," Windu says, patiently. "It is not the Jedi way to kidnap leaders of insurgencies."

The holo is interrupted by Croft's latest coughing fit. Windu's eyes uncharacteristically soften. "Taliesin, no one will think any less of you, if you take yourself out of this. You have done enough. The intelligence that you have provided that Tocque is a Force-user will help us immensely. It may save lives if our Jedi can fight him."

Croft shakes his head. "I cannot leave, Master Windu. My troops are not able to leave. I could not face them if I deserted them."

"Your feelings do you credit, young one. Your stubbornness is actually serving you well, for once." At this, the Korun Master's lips curl upward.

 _He almost sounds warm and fuzzy,_ Ahsoka thinks.

"Master. Even with our reinforcements," he nods to Kenobi and Skywalker, "we cannot hold out against the Separatist task force and the insurgency. If we take Tocque out of the equation, it is my feeling and my study that the insurgency will have no leader. They will fade away."

Windu sighs; his eyes growing angry. _There goes the warm and fuzzy_. "Jedi do not kidnap. How many times must I say this?"

At this, Master Shaak Ti speaks. "Master Windu. My Padawan knows and lives by the Jedi tenets more than anyone I know..."

Ahsoka can see that she is struggling not to smile at other conventions he might flaunt.

She grows serious again. "He is not advocating kidnapping anyone; merely removing them as a threat. His idea is much more in keeping with the Code than assassination."

Croft's look of gratitude is almost overwhelming. Ahsoka smiles at her fellow huntress.

Windu's looks is one of resignation. He turns to Kenobi. "What do you think, Obi-Wan?"

Kenobi rubs his chin thoughtfully. "I am loathe to outright kidnap a leader like this. However Padawan Croft's forces are designed for this kind of asymmetrical warfare. I don't think that removing an insurgent, especially a rogue Force-user can be called kidnapping." He pauses. "Anakin, what do you think?"

The young knight is silent. Ahsoka wonders if he is being tested. Not by his former Master, but by everyone else.

"I am in favor of anything that will save our troops' lives. I agree with Obi-Wan. I think that we should try it. We don't have the troops to hold this mineral field with the Seppie fleet above us, much less the planet"

He winks at her smile.

Ahsoka sees something in Croft’s eyes as he watches her and her Master. After a moment he nods and turns away.

Windu sighs again. "Alright. I think that you are right, Anakin. All of you. Especially since we may have to pull your fleet support away again."

All of the Jedi in the tent look at one another. Croft notices Ti looking incredulously at Windu.

"Master, how the hell do you expect us to be covered? Captain Sloane did great service covering us against fighter attack. But if the Seppies decide to attack with their frigates, we're dead."

"I know, Croft. We have no choice."

"There are always choices, Master," Croft says. Windu's eyes flash. The tent grows colder as everyone waits for the explosion.

It comes from a different source.

"Padawan Croft," Master Ti says, "you will be respectful in all things. We have agreed to your plan. Execute it and keep your opinions to yourself."

Croft's eyes look to the ground. He looks at the holocomm. "My apologies, Master Windu. I know you face hard choices." He turns to Ti. "Master, I apologize for embarrassing you. You taught me better. I would die before I reflected badly on you."

Ti returns his bow. Her lips quirk in a smile. The smile that Ahsoka has only seen given to her apprentice. "You never shame me, Taliesin. But your mouth sometimes flies faster than your brain."

Windu nods. "We realize your situation there. We are working on a solution. General Kenobi," he turns, "execute Padawan Croft's plan. May the Force be with you."

They all bow.

"Croft," Kenobi says, "I assume that you have a plan?"

Ahsoka nearly laughs at his poleaxed expression. _Guess you better get one of those, Bait,_  she thinks.

XXXXX

Croft walks into the tent of expectant clones and Jedi. He looks out at their mostly matching faces. He looks towards the door. A tiny Togruta Padawan stands next to an enormous clone. They both nod at him simultaneously.

"We are going after Tocque."

His pronouncement brings murmurs among the clone officers. Drop clears his throat and glares at the assembly. They quiet.

"I am going into the city. I will find a way to locate him. The commandos will be inserted by lartie outside of the city, while a company of the 332nd to cover is inserted in the town square. They will rendezvous with me and we will locate the subject."

"What intelligence do we have on his whereabouts?" This from Cody.

"I have managed to make contact with my surviving informants. I will be going in to meet with him. I and the other Jedi have attempted to locate his Force-sense, but his shields seem to be up. We have narrowed the shielding down to an adjacent enclave to his own family area. It's still a big area."

"I have an idea of how to tighten the search without having to rely on our informants." He says the last word as an epithet, remembering his last dealing with Lorcan. "I will need to run it by Generals Skywalker and Kenobi, as well as Commander Tano."

Commander Tano's eyes grow big. Sergeant Drop cuffs her on the shoulder with a grin. She manages to keep her feet.

Skywalker's blue eyes pierce through Croft.

Commander Tang rises at Croft's gesture. The young clone, two years younger than most of the other clones; he had proven himself as a Captain on Geonosis under Ti's direct command.

"Ranger Company will cover the extraction group. Their larties will form a perimeter in the two squares on either side of the enclave. The rest of the 332nd will land between the city and the rest of the Seppie lines. They will try to keep the Seppies out of the city."

Gregor stands next. "The extraction group will fly low along the coast and will be inserted about five clicks south of the city in the wetlands along the coast, rather than actually in the city. We will force march into the city to rendezvous with Commander Croft."

"We may have to hump it out of the city to rendezvous with the rest of the 332nd to evac."

Croft steps back up. "I guess that you are wondering what our brethren in the 501st and 212th will be doing. They won't be sitting around looking pretty." There is laughter and jostling of the two battalions' officers.

"They will be attacking the Seppie lines east of the city. They will be hopefully keeping them off of our backs."

"Marshal Commander Cody will be overall ground commander and coordinator. He will be stationed on the frigate to respond to any support needs.” He nods to the officer. “Commander Cody?"

"Sergeant Wires and Trooper Bozo will give you all of the appropriate frequencies. The 'go' word is...." He thinks. "Irene."

"Any questions?" Croft asks.

"One word to our new inhabitants. Sergeant Drop."

Drop walks to the front. "General Kenobi. General Skywalker. Commander Tano. Commander Cody. Captain Rex. We haven't had the opportunity to properly welcome you here, except for the cacophony of hacking coughs." There is laughter, punctuated by coughing. "But we have a standard greeting here other than the cough. Gentlemen and lady," he looks at them, "welcome to the Suck. May your time be short here."

Croft nods. "Thanks, First Sergeant." He looks at them all. "This is big. We pull this off, we may be able to end the insurgency. We may be able to be relieved."

"Stand-to at 0200. Depart at 0330."

He looks at them, as if fighting for words. "You know who you are fighting for. May the Force be with you."

As the briefing breaks up, Anakin, Obi-wan, and Ahsoka seek Croft out. Drop lags behind and stands next to him, a solid, hulking presence.

"So what is this scheme of yours, Taliesin?" Obi-Wan asks.

Croft takes a deep breath. "You're not going to like this Anakin, but I think that we can make use of Ahsoka's abilities other than the Force."

Skywalker's eyes narrow, but he says nothing.

"She is able to use her Call to help her as a huntress. Master Ti, has combined her Call with her Force sense, to locate shielded individuals. Especially those that might be untrained or very raw in their shielding,” Croft says.

"Tocque has fairly powerful shields. But, they are unfocused and untrained. I feel like they can be exploited with Ahsoka's abilities."

"You're right," Skywalker says. "I don't like it." The air of menace directed at Croft is palpable.

Obi-Wan notices. He places his hand on Anakin's shoulder.

Ahsoka looks from Anakin to Taliesin.

Taliesin breaks first. "Anakin. I know this is your call. But I think this might be our only way. I don't trust our informant; the last time I did, a Jedi Master wound up gutted at my feet. I know that you may doubt me...."

"That's where you're wrong, Tal," Anakin says. "I don't doubt your skill. It's just that Ahsoka is now my responsibility. She is raw, but she shows potential."

Croft centers himself. "I know. Force knows, I know how much potential she has. I will tell you this. I swore an oath to her as her hunt-brother. I won't fight for her, but I will fight with her. I will look after her. Know this. She will come back to you. If she doesn't, it is because I am already dead."

Ahsoka's eyes widen. She starts to speak. She feels a meaty hand on her shoulder. She looks up. Drop shakes his head imperceptibly.

Anakin looks at Ahsoka and then Croft. He finally nods. "Okay, but the final say is hers."

Croft smirks. "Wouldn't have it any other way."

Anakin smiles. "Whaddya say, Snips?"

She pauses then looks earnestly at him. "I'd really like to help, Master. Master Ti did teach me a little bit about doing this. I think that I can do this."

Anakin nods. Croft looks at him. "Anakin, you are her Master. It is your final call," he reiterates. He pauses. "I am her past. You are her future."

He shakes Anakin's hand. Ahsoka pulls him to her in a quick hug.

His eyes are downcast as they leave. Obi-Wan’s eyes are thoughtful as he looks at the young Padawan.

**Takodana  
The Present**

Ahsoka's eyes fill as she remembers the conversation. She looks up at the man leaning over her. "You were wrong, ' _ie_ ," she says. "You were never my past. You were always part of my present. Even now. Even though we don't get to see each other as much as we like."

She kisses him. "Every lesson that you taught me, that built upon what Anakin taught me, kept me alive and made me a better Jedi--a better person."

He looks away from her. He cannot show her his face. She pulls it back. Her blue eyes smile at him.

When he can speak, he says, "You taught me a lot, too, Ahsoka. You are still teaching me."

He rolls gently on top of her. He kisses her gently and rises above her. Her arms go around his back, pulling him down to her.

As the air resonates with soft whispers and sighs, the stars shine down on them.

Especially a tiny, distant star. A tiny distant star with a useless rock circling it. A useless rock that fostered the growth of the two lovers lying on a distant, lush world.


	9. Stand-To

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stand-to: Good Friday Morning
> 
> I’d been on duty from two till four.  
> I went and stared at the dug-out door.  
> Down in the frowst I heard them snore.  
> ‘Stand to!’ Somebody grunted and swore.  
> Dawn was misty; the skies were still;  
> Larks were singing, discordant, shrill;  
> They seemed happy; but I felt ill.  
> Deep in water I splashed my way  
> Up the trench to our bogged front line.  
> Rain had fallen the whole damned night.  
> O Jesus, send me a wound to-day,  
> And I’ll believe in Your bread and wine,  
> And get my bloody old sins washed white! 
> 
> Siegfried Sassoon

**Z'ambique  
LZ Valorum  
0100 hours local time**

Ahsoka Tano opens her eyes. To be truthful, her eyes have only been closed to an outside observer. She has not slept for more than an hour as she anticipates the day and her part in it. She has been playing scenes in her mind's eye all night. The briefing. The conversation between Croft and her Master. The conference with Windu and Ti.

Croft's pain and sadness, mixed with pride as she made her choice. The thoughtful look by Obi-Wan Kenobi at Croft as he realized that he would let her go.

She feels a soft touch on her shoulder. Her eyes snap open. The gargantuan silhouette of Drop is framed in the dim light. "Hey, little mouse," the commando says, "I knew you were in there. Did you get any sleep?"

"Yeah, a bit, Sergeant. Don't call me 'little’.”

"Okay, Mouse."

She Smirks. "Just remember that Clawmice bite. Even a little one, big guy."

He rolls his eyes. "Yeah, I can tell that Croft taught you." He looks at her with a grin. "Wouldn't have it any other way, _jetti'ka_." He holds his hand out and pulls her to her feet. “Come on, my lady. May I offer you a fine meal of Republic ration paste and slightly brown lukewarm water? Your meal of course will be accompanied by several of the Republic's finest coughing their lungs out."

"Sounds delightful, Sergeant."

"Call me Drop, Mouse."

After the delightful repast, Ahsoka and Drop, make their way to the assembly area. Ground crew are giving the waiting larties a final once-over, under bright floodlights.

Ahsoka smiles as she sees the grouped commandos checking weapons. They rise as she walks into view. She extends her palm and motions them to sit and continue. She notices that the company of the 332nd that will cover them is also up checking their gear. _Apparently they take their timetables seriously; wonder if they are all up?_ she thinks.

She notices that several of the officers and NCOs are checking the feet of their soldiers. She turns to him. "What are they doing, Drop?" she asks.

He smiles. "Something Croft and Gregor instituted in the commandos. It spread to the 332nd. Croft believes that officers should take care of their men. Infantry spend a great deal of time on their feet." His smile turns to a grin. "Those stink factories are probably their most important body part, at least to the Republic. Plus, these initial production run of boots aren't worth a shit. We're going into the swamp; they will probably leak and cause trench foot. He...."

He stops as he realizes that he is talking to himself. He turns with a thunderous expression on his face. He calms as the thunder turns to a broad grin, as he realizes where the little Padawan has gone.

She is kneeling before a row of troopers who are seated cleaning their weapons. Her small hands and her sharp eyes are running over one trooper's foot, examining it. The trooper laughs at something she says.

He notices someone else watching from beside him. Croft is sipping a cup of sludge, that same pained expression on his face that Drop has seen ever since the reinforcements arrived. A mixture of pain and pride. Pain compounded by the loss of Stoll.

He taps Croft on the back of the head. "Any way we can work out a trade? Her for you? She at least seems to listen to her Top Sergeant's every word."

They walk over and sit down. "You're just new to her. Pretty soon she'll be ignoring you just like the rest of us do. Plus, be careful what you wish for. She would be less inclined to put up with your shit than I would."

Croft stops as Drop sees that he is suddenly aware of someone grabbing his foot. Ahsoka looks up at him with an _Akul_ -sized Smirk on her face. "What the hell are you doing, Runt?"

"Your feet are the Republic's greatest asset," she intones, in a credible imitation of Drop's accent.

Drop rolls his eyes, but grins at her.

She turns to Drop. "Is there anyway that you can adapt a _buy'ce_ to me?"

"Probably, why?" Drop says, perplexed.

"So I can filter this stench out."

Drop and the surrounding clones laugh. "Believe me, Commander, we've tried," comes a voice from behind them.

"Looks like she has your number, Bard," Gregor says, walking up. Croft makes a non-committal noise.

"Why do they call you 'Bard?' Ahsoka asks.

Gregor looks at her and smiles. "There is a legend on Mandalore of a warrior who is a story teller and singer. The _al'verde_ embodies that legend for us."

She looks at Croft. He busies himself looking at the nearest lartie.

Drop breaks the moment, as he usually does. "In other words...."

A loud, unison reply startles her for a second. "He's full of shit!" his troops yell.

Croft rolls his eyes and shakes his head. Ahsoka smiles with his troops.

He pulls his boots on and stands. "Captain Gregor, could you be so kind to outfit Commander Tano with some local garb? I don't think that Togruta hunting clothes would be welcome where we are going."

"As you say, Commander," Gregor says. He holds his hand out towards a tent. "If you will, Commander. We'll try to find you some that doesn't stink too bad."

Ahsoka faces Croft and bows to him. "I won't let you down, Padawan Croft."

"I never dreamed that you would, Padawan Tano," he says. He returns her bow.

Drop watches them both as she turns and walks away with Gregor.

XXXXX

Croft walks with Drop towards his tent. He is silent, lost in his thoughts.

Drop finally curses silently. "Could you snap the fuck out of it, Croft? What the hell is wrong with you?"

Croft's eyes flash a danger signal. "Keep your opinions on my demeanor to yourself, Sergeant."

"What?" Drop says incredulously. "You're going to pull rank on me, Croft? You forget. I've seen you at your worst. Tell me. Why does it look like you are about to give up when you look at that Padawan?"

"Because she's too goddamned young to be here," he yells. He centers himself. "She shouldn't even be a Padawan yet. She should be back at the Temple helping whoever the poor bastard is who is her clan-master train younglings."

"But she ain't," Drop says quietly. "She's here. She is a Jedi." He turns Croft towards him. "Rex said she fought like one of those beasts that you told me about on her home planet on her first mission." He smiles as if remembereing the exact words. “Granted, he said she is a snarky little shit, but she has guts and brains to spare." He smiles. "That's high praise from Rex. He ain't exactly breaking out in words." The smile changes to a grin. "Or personality. Point is, Tal, you gave her what she needed to be a Padawan. Let her Master take over and build on that. She might've gotten some of the guts from you, but the brains definitely didn't come from you."

Croft's expression eases. "Don't I know it. I hope that she won't be as big of a pain in the ass to her Master as I was to Master Ti."

"Maybe so, but I don't think General Ti would've changed a goddamned thing about you. Something tells me that Skywalker can handle her, too."

"Come on. Got some pictures of dead men for you. Let's get you changed. By the way, do you take requests?"

Croft sighs. "No, I will not change into that barmaid at 79s. The one who has lent her name to our 'go' word."

"I was just asking for Cody."

XXXXX

Ahsoka comes out of the tent in the bandages and robes of a Z'ambeqesena. The single bladed-club is slung on her back. Gregor and the other clones with him nod approvingly. She pulls the mask down, taking in the somewhat fresher air.

Her height had determined that she would dress in this garb, of the three genders of the Gift.

"Not bad, Commander," Peck, the medic says. "Just be careful of absorbing spice residue in your mucous membranes. You're pretty tough, but you're a little young to be getting stoned."

She Smirks. "Maybe another day, Doc," she says. The clones shake their heads. Their expressions on their faces are an open book to her.  _Great. Another smartassed little jetti. Didn't we exceed some quota or something?_

"So, Commander. Why do you call our Commander 'Bait'? We heard you call him that."

"I used him as bait in my first _Akul_ hunt." She touches the teeth that decorate her forehead. She can feel the collective eyebrow raise and the nods. She watches them calculate the size of the beast from the teeth. "I like to remind him of the fact. As does his Master." She grows serious. "I don't know if he would like to be reminded of it by you guys."

"Don't worry, Commander. That is your name for him. Ours is Bard. Names are very important to us," says Bozo, the alternate comm/tech.

She smiles. "I know that they are, Bozo."

"I think that there is a story there, Commander, but we need to get you on that lartie. Drop and Alpha will go with you until Bard calls for you," Gregor says.

"Very well, boys. May the Force be with you all."

The response is in unison. "And with you, Commander."

XXXXX

Alpha-17 walks up to Drop at their assigned lartie. They nod at one another. Drop notices that Alpha is pensive, as he has been since Christophsis.  _The pensiveness has been an improvement over the arrogant Alpha-ness, Drop thinks. Guess I have to get him out of it, as well. How did I get to be the Jedi-whisperer and now, apparently, the Alpha-whisperer?_

He feels a laughing, bright thought in his head. "Because you are so good at it, my Null."

His own eyes well as he thinks of that other Padawan. When the _Bucket_ had landed, he had boarded, expecting to see her.

Captain Sloane had met him, "She's not aboard, Drop. She boarded a medical transport for Coruscant just before the Fleet bugged out."

He smiles as the memories rush. _At least she is out of this shithole._

He looks up at Seventeen. "What's eating you, _Vod_?" he asks, bluntly.

Alpha starts. Drop keeps his face expressionless. He knows that the hostility that had been there since they had met is absent.

"I guess you'll be happy with this, Drop. As soon as we get out of here, I'm out. I'm transferring."

"What brought this on, Alpha? I thought that you had worked out your issues. You certainly proved that you could lead these men, not just command them on Christophsis."

"I've thought about it, but I need to be with my own kind."

The look of hostility returns. "I was under the impression that we were your own kind, asshole."

"No. We share DNA. Nothing else. This whole group, from its Jedi on down are undisciplined. I think that these ARCs are a useless model."

"Where the hell is this coming from? You've watched these men die, at least in the 332nd. You watched Stooge die."

"Just hit me after Croft got back. Never been a part of this unit. Gregor should command these men. He shares their mediocrity."

He looks at Drop. "Maybe you should come with me."

"Why the hell would I do that? I am among my own kind." He squares up with Seventeen. "So who is going to take your useless ass, Plank?" Drop asks, venom dripping from his words. He doesn’t bother masking his expression now.

"Cody has offered me command of the new recon company for his Corps. It means a promotion, and command of a company of my brothers. My true brothers. Not these mongrels and defectives."

Drops rage overflows. His fist draws back.

"Stand down, Sergeant," a high, young voice says. A voice with authority, nonetheless. "Both of you, stand down. I won't say it again."

Ahsoka Tano stands in the door of the lartie. "In case you haven't figured it out yet, you two charmers are my protection. Not that I will admit that I really need it, but my Master insists."

"I would prefer that my protection not be at each other's throats during this whole party. If you can't figure this out, then one or both of you can get the hell off of my lartie."

In spite of her words, Drop's eyes crinkle at her steady authority. _Croft should be proud. I know she learned those words somewhere. The snark is natural born._

He salutes and nods. "As you say, Commander."

Ahsoka looks at Seventeen. "Well?" she says. He stares at her. Her height seems to grow as she starts towards him.

She closes to within a finger's width of his face. The temperature drops in the bay of the lartie. "Get out," she says, not raising her voice. Her eyes are steady on his.

Without a word, he turns and leaves.

Ahsoka relaxes. She turns to Drop. He is looking at her with amazement. _Guts and brains to spare._

"What?" she says challengingly. "You got something to say, Beast?"

He smirks at the name. "Not a thing, Mouse. You want me to find a replacement?"

"Why, you think you can't handle it?"

"You've been hanging around Rex too much."

"There are worse examples. Let's go."

As the lartie lifts off, Alpha-17 stands on the makeshift tarmac. He closes his eyes in pain. The buzzing in his head increases. A voice - a whisper really, overlaid with menace and suggestion whispers over the buzzing. _They're not worthy of you. You are better than them. They will someday pay._

He turns and heads away from the field. The voices quiet, but do not still.

 

 


	10. Hunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Storm and Sunlight
> 
> I.
> 
> In barns we crouch, and under stacks of straw,  
> Harking the storm that rides a hurtling legion  
> Up the arched sky, and speeds quick heels of panic  
> With growling thunder loosed in fork and clap  
> That echoes crashing thro’ the slumbrous vault.  
> The whispering woodlands darken: vulture Gloom  
> Stoops, menacing the skeltering flocks of Light,  
> Where the gaunt shepherd shakes his gleaming staff  
> And foots with angry tidings down the slope.  
> Drip, drip; the rain steals in through soaking thatch  
> By cob-webbed rafters to the dusty floor.  
> Drums shatter in the tumult; wrathful Chaos  
> Points pealing din to the zenith, then resolves  
> Terror in wonderment with rich collapse. 
> 
> Siegfried Sassoon

**Z'ambique  
Cornat (Capital City)  
Stone Enclave**

Taliesin Croft sits in the back of a small watering hole on the outskirts of the enclave. Behind his mask, he wears a younger face than the last time he had lived another's life. He watches and listens, looking for any mention of Lorcan or of Tocque. He hears nothing. He sees nothing.

He feels a great big emptiness in the Force, near this spot. He tenses as several Z'ambiquesenos move into the bar. They are not only armed with the clubs, but with Separatist blasters. They look around the bar at its denizens.

Croft realizes that he is the only Z'ambiqueseno in the bar. The rest are the third gender, the Z'ambiqueseat. A gender that does not associate with the other two except for mating.

The Shadow curses eloquently to himself. His jaw clenches as he realizes that his focus has slipped, with so many things running through his head.

The armed Z'ambiquesenos lock onto him. He looks at the huge Z'ambiqueseat'i in the bar. They are looking at him as well. As one, they draw their three-bladed daggers, an almost dainty-looking weapon in their huge hands. Their leader turns to the patrol and waves his dagger at them.

The smaller genders move out. With alacrity.

Croft drops his false face. His Force-energy rises with the move. The crowd moves towards him. He stands. As he reaches for his lightsaber, the crowd stops and parts.

A recognizable mask and cloak walks in. "I claim this one for the Gift. Tocque wants him publicly executed. I claim him," says Lorcan, his erstwhile informant.

He jerks his head toward the rear. Croft follows him. _Probably a trap, but I have to try. If it saves one Vod._

"So, little spy. Back for more, I see. Maybe I will get to see your guts on the floor this time. I figured that you would be the one to wander into a forbidden place."

He motions behind Croft, who feels the warning. As his lightsaber comes out, his arms are pinioned by four large Z'ambiqueseat. One takes his lightsaber. Lorcan walks over to him and casually yanks the bandages and hood away, exposing his face.

Lorcan is surprised. "You are young, for a soon-to-be dead man. Pity. I assume that you are a Jedi."

"I am," Croft says, looking Lorcan square in the mask. "You should know, Lorcan. The Republic is heavily invested in this planet. As we speak, a large Republic task force is on its way here. We‘ll take this planet. The Gift will be no more and you‘ll be left with nothing."

Lorcan nods. "That is what Tocque and his new allies say will happen. The Republic will take. We will be left with nothing."

"Do you think Tocque's new friends will leave you with anything? The Republic would've worked with you. We would‘ve paid you for the mineral that we need. At least until you murdered a Jedi in cold blood."

Lorcan's mask twists near his mouth. Croft can only assume it is a smile. "I am about to kill another one. Let's see what human guts spilled on the ground look like."

Croft feels one of the Z'ambiqueseat cut his tunic open, exposing his belly. He closes his eyes, preparing. He doesn’t have enough Force-energy after his Shadow manifestation to fight. He centers himself. He feels a tiny presence drawing closer. A blue and orange light. His eyes squint. He feels a sharp pain in his gut, as a finely honed triple blade touches his middle and enters it slightly, preparing for the cut.

He feels the knife suddenly withdraw from his skin. The withdrawal is accompanied by a familiar hum. His eyes snap open. The knife and the hand holding it are falling to the floor. Another swing of a green blade and the soldier holding his right arm falls to the floor, the face opened to the air.

The Z'ambiqueseat on the left falls, his head split by a laser bolt. Croft sees Lorcan turning to run. The Jedi flips his hand out and pulls. The informant falls to the ground.

Croft sways. A meaty hand encased in a glove, seizes him from the left. A small hand, encased in bracers, its orange hue just visible at the fingers grabs his right arm. Ahsoka sheathes her lightsaber. She stares wide-eyed at the bodies on the floor.

 _No droids here_ , he thinks grimly. He touches her face. "I know, Runt. No time. We'll talk about it later."

She gives her head a tiny shake. He sees her center herself. Her eyes widen as she sees the shallow wound on his belly. She grabs her bracer on her left hand with her right. As soon as her hand is bare, she closes her eyes. She takes a deep breath and places her hand on his wounds.

He realizes what she is doing. "Nope," he says, grabbing her hand, "You need it more than I do, if we‘re to find the big bad."

"But.." she begins, her eyes flashing at him.

"No time to argue, Ahsoka. I'll be fine. I'm sure Drop will kiss it and make it better."

She laughs without thinking.

“I ain't planning on kissing anything of yours," Drop says, "sir.” He grins. “If milady Mouse of the sharp blade and the even sharper wit will help me, we‘ll put some bacta on those little scratches."

Ahsoka hands Croft his lightsaber, which had been dropped by the insurgent holding it. Drop finishes treating the 'scratches.'

Croft walks over to the fallen informant. His eyes widen as he notices that Lorcan is not moving. He and Drop look at one another. They turn him over. His hands clutch his axe to his belly.

The blade is embedded in his belly, with the secondary blade embedded in his throat.

Where he had landed on it when Croft had Force-tripped him.

Croft curses, then shrugs.

"Runt. Looks like you‘re up. We'll do it the old fashioned way."

**Takodana  
The Present**

Covenant can feel Ahsoka's thoughts as he lays behind her. Their breathing has slowed; the stars in their heads have long receded as she stops relating her view of his rescue.

She is quiet. He knows what she is seeing on her eyelids. He smiles, as he runs his tongue over her lek. He feels the shiver; can feel her lips play into a smile.

He moves his mouth to her shoulder, tasting the salt of her sweat.

"You're trying to take my mind off of what I‘m thinking, aren't you, _Baa'je'ie_?"

"Nothing gets past you, huh, _cyar'ika_?

He feels her stiffen slightly at the endearment. She relaxes. "Sweetheart, huh?"

"Or beloved." He smiles. "Well, I figured, since I couldn't hit the trills on what you call me...."

"So how did you figure out what it meant, _ie_?"

"Intensive research."

"You commed Baldrick, didn't you?" she says. He can feel the Smirk cutting through him.

"I may have."

"Please, Bait. Tell me you didn't promise him topless holos of me."

He is silent. He yelps as she thrusts her hip backwards into him.

"Nothing major. Just dinner with him on Corellia."

"Asshole."

"Come on, babe. It'll be painless. There's a _shura_ stand near the Capitol that he adores and a park bench he frequents. He‘s a simple man."

"That's what I am afraid of."

She falls silent, but he can feel the Smirk increasing in intensity. He feels it fade as well. Replaced with an....uncertainty. He kisses her shoulder again. "Ahsoka. Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Are you?" He notices that her breath has barely left her lungs. "If I‘ve scared you, Jame..."

"No. You haven't, Ahsoka. I don't want to make light of this, please don't take it that way."

He gathers himself. "I really don't think that it matters. I don't think that we have to say any special words. I think that we‘ve been through enough that we know how we feel."

She releases the breath. "I think that you‘re right, Bait. We both grab the light in other places, with others, but I think that we’ll always come back to each other. Because of what we‘ve shared in our pasts."

She turns and looks him in the eye. "Because you are my hunt-brother."

"Always."

"At least until you share those holos on your comm with Baldrick."

"Understood." He changes the subject.

"Ahsoka. You seem troubled by the story."

She turns away from him. He rests his forehead on her lek. Trying to exude calm and care, as he knew Dani would've done.

"I'm okay. Just thinking about the firsts on that day."

"Don't, babe," he says. "I know that you‘re thinking about those that were the first flesh-and-blood sentients you ever had to kill. I knew from the time that you handed me my lightsaber. We just never got a chance to talk about it."

He can feel her thinking about it; about the lives she has had to take since. _Hell, he can practically hear her thoughts resonating in his head._

"You did what you have had to do. Always. You've never killed out of hatred or fear, or anger."

He takes a deep breath. "I, on the other hand, have killed in anger. I've killed brothers in anger. You could argue that I did it out of self-defense, but I‘d argue that after what they took from me, I didn't care if I lived or died. They took it from me because of what I had been; to draw me out."

His voice breaks. She feels the pain and guilt rolling off of him in waves through his shaky Force-signature.

She turns to him. One hand touches his face. The other ghosts over his right hand, which is absent-mindedly twisting the _beskar_ ring on his left hand. He looks at her as he feels her fingers caress the ring. She kisses his forehead and moves down his face to his eyes, his nose--they both smirk at that--and finally his lips.

She doesn't ask about the ring.

He flips her and moves his own lips down her torso. He stops at her belly.

She grins to break the mood. "So, Covenant of Corellia," using his name as it was meant to be, an ancient title, "we've discussed what the Mandalorian side would call me. What would the Corellian call me?"

She feels the smirk against her skin. His lips moves down a bit to a known sensitive spot around her navel. The smirk grows.

"Darrrrrlin'," he says, rolling the Rs against her ticklish spot.

The spate of giggling grows to a fit of bright and unbound laughter through the Takodanan night.

He takes mercy on her and pillows his head on her stomach. He listens as her breath calms.

She begins to speak again.

**Z'ambique  
Cornat  
Stone Enclave  
0400 hours**

Drop watches as both of his little Jedi center themselves. He sees the larger and older of the two place his hand on Ahsoka's shoulder.

He can feel something, some undefinable, ancient energy in the room. The room appears to shrink, to close in.

From the little one--his Mouse--he feels a different sensation. A brief buzz in his ears, increasing to nothing. He sees her montrals cocked to one side. He knows that her montrals are not fully developed at her age--nothing like General Ti's.

They are apparently powerful enough.

He sees her blue eyes--those huge eyes that grow even wider at new experiences, but show a huge wisdom beyond her years in other instances-- _like when she puts an asshole Alpha in his place_ \- snap open.

A wide smile, showing those sharp predator's teeth grows on her face. He looks to Croft. His own wide gambler's grin is plastered on his face. something that Drop has not seen since coming to the Suck.

"Let's go, Drop. Think we got him," Croft says to him.

XXXXX

The three are able to move away from the watering hole, using the back alleys. Both Croft and Ahsoka have abandoned their outer garments and are clad in their Jedi and Togruta fighting attire. Drop smirks at Ahsoka's attire.

An orange middle finger is raised in his direction. Drop has the good sense to look sheepish at Croft's thunderous expression at each of them. "When we get out of here, Sergeant, we will discuss appropriate lessons for General Skywalker's apparently impressionable Padawan."

"Gimme a break, Croft. I learned more words and gestures that got me in trouble from you than any of the _Vode_ ," the impressionable Padawan says with a toxic eyeroll accompaniment.

Both men look at each other at her use of the _Mando'a_. They mirror looks of pride.

"Okay, point taken, Runt. Try to keep those Mando gestures from being seen by your Master and especially Master Kenobi."

"Who do you think taught them to my Master?" She grows serious. She points to the door.

Croft looks at the lock. As he starts to pull out a small kit, a large boot splits the wood.

The gargantuan body that the large boot is attached to charges through the door. Blaster discharges are heard from within. Ahsoka and Croft look at one another.

"I guess that we’re going in," Croft says. Ahsoka Smirks and replies, "I like it. My Master‘d certainly approve."

"If you’reboth done strategizing, you might want to come in here after your poor clone has done all of the work."

They quickly enter the room. And stop at what we see.

The Zambiqeseno known as Tocque is seated. His distinctive bare face fixed with his eyes glassy.

Strapped to a chair. His throat strapped to hold the head upright. An unfamiliar device is strapped to his head.

Croft kneels next to him. He closes his eyes and lightly places his hand on Tocque's head. He opens his eyes.

"He's barely alive. His Force sense is odd. It's like it's not coming from him."

"You said you saw him upright and talking to you when Stoll was killed, right?" Drop says.

"Yeah. He was talking to me with his face bared."

Ahsoka looks at him. "Like he was trying to prove who it was."

Both men look at her. Realization hits them, as well. "Good catch, Mouse," Drop says.

"What is that thing on his head?"

"I don't know, but I‘m afraid to take it off. I don't want to kill him if he is not himself."

Drop looks at him. "I do. If it means saving more of my brothers."

Both Jedi look at him soberly. Croft makes a decision. "Drop, we may have to do it your way. But I have to try it my way. It was the way that Ahsoka and I were born and brought up."

"Understood, Tal." Ahsoka starts at the easy familiarity between the two. "What do you want me to do?" Drop asks.

"Pick him up. As gently as you can, without disturbing anything. We'll cover you. Cover his face." He turns to Ahsoka. "Runt, transmit the 'execute' to Cody."

He walks out, pulling his lightsaber from his belt. Ahsoka pulls her wrist comm; projects the list of call signs above it. She rolls her eyes as she sees the one by her name.

"Sunray, this is Little Mouse. Per Actual. Execute, execute, execute." She turns and follows Croft and Drop out, her lightsaber at the ready.

**Ten Kilometers east of Cornat**

Captain Hold, commanding officer of Ranger Company, 332nd Light Infantry, hears a warning tone over the command net on his bucket headset. "This is Sunray to all stations. "Irene. I say again, Irene."

He turns to the expectant troopers in the lartie. "Irene, boys. I'll buy the first round from her at 79s." He bangs on the ceiling of the bay.

The eight larties of the first covering wave dive, as their thrumming, distinctive engines increase. The gunships start to jostle as small arms fire increases from the ground. The ships flare as they approach the squares of the enclave.

The tension builds. The troopers check their equipment.

**Enclave Square East**

The Z'ambequeseat sees the enemy flying ships slowing. The insurgent picks up the unfamiliar tube and brings it to the shoulder. Much as the red male had taught the clique. 'at looks through the scope and fires at the lead ship.

A gout of flame and heat flies in 'at's face, taking the insurgent to the knee. The flying bomb streaks true, though, striking the ship in its troop compartment. The ship veers to the right and rear, smoke and flame jetting from the compartment.

The ship strikes a second ship. Both ships start in an uncontrolled spin. The lead ship falls into the square. The second ship strikes buildings to the east. There is a small explosion.

The Z'ambiqueseat drops the tube and raises 'at's triple-bladed dagger. The insurgent shouts to the skies of the Gift.

Until a green blade of light slices 'at in half.

A panicked voice is heard over the bearer's wrist comm. "Two larties down! Ranger Six is down. Who's in command?"

 

 

 

 

 


	11. Irene

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Storm and Sunlight
> 
> II.
> 
> Now from drenched eaves a swallow darts to skim  
> The crystal stillness of an air unveiled  
> To tremulous blue. Raise your bowed heads, and let  
> Your horns adore the sky, ye patient kine!  
> Haste, flashing brooks! Small, chuckling rills, rejoice!  
> Be open-eyed for Heaven, ye pools of peace!  
> Shine, rain-bow hills! Dream on, fair glimpsèd vale  
> In haze of drifting gold! And all sweet birds,  
> Sing out your raptures to the radiant leaves!  
> And ye, close huddling Men, come forth to stand  
> A moment simple in the gaze of God  
> That sweeps along your pastures! Breathe his might!  
> Lift your blind faces to be filled with day,  
> And share his benediction with the flowers. 
> 
> Siegfried Sassoon

**Cornat  
Stone Enclave Roof  
Irene +15"**

"This ain't good," Drop says as he trundles up to Ahsoka, Tocque slung over his shoulder. Croft follows, the clone's DC-15S in one hand, his lightsaber in the other.

"Nope," she says. "Who would be in command, over there, if the Captain is down?"

"Don't know. Let me put shithead down for a second and see if I can finger it out."

Croft rolls his eyes as he sees Ahsoka digest Drop's colorful vocabulary. He unceremoniously releases the insurgent onto the rooftop.

"Hurry up, sunshine," the Jedi says to the Sergeant, "I think that we‘re getting noticed."

Drop taps his helmet ears. He curses. Without hesitation, he takes Ahsoka's thin wrist and brings it to his lips.

"Shut up, assholes," he yells into the pickup, making her jump.

The cacophony of shouts and screams over the comm ceases.

 _Effective_ , Croft thinks with a smirk.

"One of you, give me a sitrep."

A strained voice replies. "We have two larties down. Multiple KIAs and WIAs. Captain Hold's status is unknown. We only had one officer left on the west envelopment. Can't find him."

"Who is this and where are you?"

"Sergeant Jute, Top. West envelopment."

"Okay, son," Drop says. "You're the man. Rally your troops and do your job. If you have more than one, get one of your medics over to the east envelopment and start triaging patients."

Croft's lightsaber starts to hum as he blocks laser bolts. "We got company, Drop."

"Same on this side, boys," Ahsoka says. "Could I have my wrist, back, Beast?"

"Don't know what good it will do, Mouse. You seem to be doing alright, even though you can't seem to hold your glow stick right."

The eyeroll is felt back at the LZ. "Yes, the noted master of lightsaber combat, Sergeant Drop," comes a strained voice from their rear.

Drop releases Ahsoka's wrist, patting it gently. "You're doing great, sweetie," he says in an uncharacteristically mild voice to her, "keep the Z'ammies away from our front."

He yanks his bucket off. He begins to tinker with the helmet. Ahsoka sees this. "I know that your head‘s extremely hard," she says, "but put the bucket back on, Beast."

"Would you rather me be dragging your skinny butt around by your wrist so that I can actually pull something out of this cluster - uh, mess?"

The smirks from both sides of him can be felt, even without Force-sensitivity.

"Guess I could ride on your shoulders, Beast."

"Okay. I take it back. You ain't that skinny. Not combined with this lump," he says, kicking the unconscious Z'ambequeseno.

"Hey!" she exclaims. "Don't break him. He may be our ticket out of here."

"Could you two comedians tone it down? Kinda trying to multi-task here."

They fall silent, as more insurgent fire floats towards them.

XXXXX

Captain Gregor can hear the blaster fire and explosions coming from their north. The commando squads had been dropped in their appointed LZ and were making their way to the city. The pace was slow, as it was compounded by the rare wetlands along the coastal plain.

Beside him, Wires, the senior comm/tech, hands him the comm interface without a word. "Gregor, I need you to step it up. We have a situation here," a voice in a Corellian drawl says.

"Bard, we‘re about half a klick out, but all this swampy shit is slowing us down. Who knew on this dustbowl?"

"Don't much care. We‘re on the southern end in this enclave. We are trapped on a roof with hostiles firing on us. We have the package. On top of it...."

"Heard the rest, Bard. I've already sent Threat and the other medic on to their location to help out. Ranger can't take too many casualties; they already lost a lot in the Seppie attacks in the last few weeks."

"Good job. I need Peck and Bozo on the roof with us. Got a job that may need both their expertise," the Jedi finishes.

 _Like that doesn't raise a question._ "Understood. Oh, and Bard, Alpha decided to go ahead and join his new command with the 212th. He is actually commanding the 212th under Kenobi while Cody is on the frigate."

"Goddamnit...."

Gregor cuts him off. "Hey, Bard, cool it down. We actually came out better. Cody sent two of his best scouts, Waxer and Boil to replace him. Didn't have time to consult, as you were already gone."

The comm is silent. "Okay," Croft finally says. "Maybe we did come out better."

"Stand on it, Gregor."

XXXXX

Sergeant Jute lets his blaster cool for a moment. His troops have rallied, they were advancing towards the Jedi's position, but slowly.

Apparently the Seps had been hiding a droid battalion in reserve in the city. Half of them were supplementing the locals and providing some much-needed discipline to their opposition.

 _If you call simple aimed fire as much-needed._ The Z'ammies were hosing it around, indiscriminately.

As they move into the outskirts of the city, the detachment changes front for street fighting, rather than a line of battle. Jute had decided to hit the line at the center of the Z'ammies rather than the droids. A move that would leave his rear exposed to the droids surrounding him.

He looks ahead through his HUD. He can see bolts being deflected back at their source. He nods behind his bucket. He shifts his troops to the left and right to relieve the _al'verde_ from three different streets.

XXXXX

Ahsoka's arm starts to numb from the continual blaster fire that she is deflecting back at the attacking insurgents and droids. The ten thousand swings of her lightsaber that she had routinely done as an Initiate in a day stands her in good stead, but that couldn't really prepare her for the continuous fire of the enemy.

An upward movement to her right catches her eye. Two B1 battle droids poke their oblong heads over the parapet. One places his blaster over the parapet, aiming at Drop. _Go for the biggest target_ , she thinks. She swings her saber, slicing both of the heads and the blaster in half.

She flips her saber grip around to deflect blasts again. More movement catches at the edge of her senses. She swings the blade down again. Instead of a metallic scream, her montrals resonate with a more recognizable voice. "Shit, Commander, watch that thing!" Peck, the commando senior medic says.

"Sorry," she says sheepishly. She turns to her front once again, as more bolts come in.

Peck and Bozo climb up. "Hear you've got a job for us, Bard," Bozo says.

He points to the catatonic Z'ambequeseno. "That might be the source of the insurgency. See if you can get that thing off of him without killing him. It's projecting some serious Force-power to all of these assholes."

"Understood. Gregor should be right behind us."

"Good," Croft says. He turns to his front. The blaster fire has lessened. He shakes his head and makes a decision.

He activates his comm. "Sunray, this is Actual," he says. "Cody, we're going to need a pickup from the frigate."

XXXXX

Cody looks at Captain Sloane as Croft's filtered voice comes through the comm. She is facing away from him, busy with their own problems.

He pushes the transmit button. "No can do, Commander. Most of the Seppie fleet jumped away, but they left two capital ships that are attacking us. Can't get down there to you. You'll have to rely on your larties, since our fleet jumped away."

Another clone voice breaks in. "We can't get through, either. We're under attack from droid fighters. We'll be there as soon as we can break through."

Sloane turns to Cody as she hears that. Her eyes meet his. He shakes his head. "I'm sorry, Captain," he says quietly.

XXXXX

Croft turns to Gregor, who has clambered up on the roof. The other squads have formed a perimeter to their south. "Looks like we‘re on our own," he says.

"Commander, we still haven't heard from the east envelopment," Drop says.

Croft sees the clones and Ahsoka looking expectantly at him. The seconds tick by. He looks at Ahsoka. She nods at him. "Whatever you need, Tal," she says quietly.

He makes his decision. "Commander Tano, Sergeant Drop. Make your way east and get to our brothers. Commander Tano, take command of the east envelopment." He tries not to look at her widening eyes. "Sergeant Drop, you will assist her. Find a way to get our injured brothers on some sort of transports and figure out a rendezvous with any larties or if the frigate can break free. If you can get them to the rest of the 332nd that‘s forming the blocking force that would be the best. It’s your call, Ahsoka. I can't spare anyone to go with you," he says.

Drop nods. There is no sarcasm in his voice. "Commander, let's go."

Croft touches them both on their shoulders, narrow and broad. "Take care of each other. You‘re both very important to me. Remember," he looks at them, blue eyes and amber, "no one gets left behind."

They both nod.

Drop turns to Ahsoka. They both jump down from the roof. They are soon out of sight in the screaming masses.

There is a corridor of masses who are no longer screaming.

"Gregor. Take your squads and see if you can rendezvous with the west. Get them here so we can attack."

"Attack, Commander?" Gregor says incredulously.

Croft nods. "Yep. Only way we can get out of here."

XXXXX

Ahsoka runs as fast as she can. Drop curses as he tries to make his much bulkier body match her Togruta athleticism. She turns her head towards him as she advances, her saber swinging, encouraging attacking Z'ammies to get out of the whirlwind's way. "Come on, big guy. Am I going to have to carry you the rest of the way?"

Drop smiles in spite of himself. _Little turd_ , he thinks to himself. He suddenly grabs her by the shoulder and pulls her back as a blaster bolt passes through where her head had been.

 _Doesn't stop her,_ as she regains her balance and charges forward.

XXXXX

Trooper Riddle fires his DC-15 at the hordes to his west. He and the survivors of the east envelopment have pulled back to the crashed larties. Medics are working frantically to stabilized the triaged patients.

The clones have dug a makeshift bombproof into the ground to provide cover for the injured. He curses his lot. _Could've stayed back at the LZ, but nooooo, I had to let Drop bully me into coming. Damned Null bastard. I hate that son-of-a-bitch._

He surveys his forces. No surviving officers or NCOs. Forty rifles firing. At least thirty dead and about a hundred wounded.

He turns the rangefinder on his HUD to look beyond the attacking droids and Z'ammies. He sees a form that makes him curse and laugh at the same time.

A huge brother following a tiny Togruta, who is swinging her lightsaber for all her worth, scrapping droids left and right.

A loud screaming begins to grow from the attacking insurgents, as the pair bull their way through the attack.

XXXXX

Croft watches Peck and Bozo work on the little box on Tocque's head. Blood is streaming from under the box. The insurgent leader makes no sound as they continue to work. Croft turns back to deflecting blaster bolts from the south. An entire company's equivalent of insurgents of all three genders is moving towards them.

"Come on, Bozo, I think you may have to be less subtle," Croft says. The comm/tech continues to work.

"Dammit, Bozo, quit being so fucking slow," Peck says.

Bozo smiles. "You've never complained about me being slow before, love," he says archly. Peck smiles softly in spite of the situation.

Croft rolls his eyes. "I‘m all for the both of you making goo-goo eyes at one another; I‘d be glad to ensure an entire rotation's worth of leave so y'all can have some privacy, but could we deal with the problem at hand?"

At that moment, there is a popping noise as the box moves from the head of Tocque. A low moan is heard, as the Z'ambiqueseno's eyes pop open. He looks around in terror. Peck is there with a sedative. The insurgent collapses. Peck runs his scanner over his body.

"His vitals are stable, Bard."

Croft reaches out with the Force. The insistent hum that had been nagging him since they had discovered Tocque was not there. He looks down. The blaster fire has diminished, as he sees insurgents milling around. A low hum of conversation is heard as they stare at one another.

He turns to Peck and Bozo, who had both removed their buckets during their work. Bozo looks insufferably pleased with himself. "Well, give him a kiss, Peck," Croft says, "We're back in business."

The medic is, as ever, obedient.

Croft sees Gregor and his squads returning from the west at the double. More troopers follow him than he left with.

"Gregor!" Croft shouts.

“What?" the officer shouts back, irritation evident in his voice.

“Get some of your bruisers up here. Wrap our package and start moving out to rendezvous with Commander Tano.” Croft turns to Peck and Bozo. “Okay, boys. That's enough. Time to get back to work," Croft says to Peck and Bozo. The pair of troopers break apart and don their buckets.

As they jump down and begin to run, Croft looks behind him. Three columns of troopers are moving through the confused locals. A line of B1s and B2s are advancing behind them.

He yells at the advancing troops "Come on. We're getting the hell out of here."

XXXXX

Ahsoka feels the change in the Force, as the intruding buzz drops away. She surveys the insurgents. She sees their confusion.

She notices that Drop and Trooper Riddle are watching her. She turns and looks at the makeshift aid station. For just a moment, she allows herself to mourn.

For only a moment. Her eyes narrow as she wrestles with how to get the wounded to the rest of the 332nd.

She smiles. Drop looks at her curiously. "Trooper Riddle - how many effectives do you have?

He doesn't answer. There is the sound of a blow to the back of the trooper's bucket. "The Commander asked you a question, knucklehead. She is not accustomed to asking twice."

"Forty who can move." Drop raises his hand again. "Sir," the clone amends hastily.

"Sergeant Drop, what do you see over there in that yard behind the building that the lartie hit?"

He looks. She can feel him thinking. "I see about twelve of those old hover transports. They're pretty decent sized. I think the insurgents use them with small cannon mounted."

"That's not what I see when I look at them," she says. "Look again."

She can feel Drop smiling behind his bucket. "I see a way out for our brothers, Commander."

"That's exactly what I see, Drop. Riddle," she says, as she turns to the reluctant clone, "get those things running. Put your men who can drive in the driver's seats and get them over here. Get our wounded and dead on them and move out."

The clone salutes and leaves. She turns back to the Null. "Drop, I need you to trust me."

He nods. "Within reason, Mouse."

She steels herself. "I need you to get our wounded to the blocking lines." She can feel the thunder rolling off of him. She shakes her head. "Don't argue. You'll need twenty-four of the effectives to get those things going and carry them out. Leave me sixteen who can fight.” She checks her lightsaber. “I’m going to find Croft and help him."

Drop pulls his bucket off. "Those weren't your orders, Commander Tano. Your...."

"My orders were to get the wounded out. You will be doing that. My objective has been met. Croft will need all the help he can get."

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. "What is he to you, Ahsoka?"

She looks down. "He’s my hunt-brother. May not mean much to anyone who hasn't been through it, but our lives have been in each other's hands before."

He looks at her; his own eyes softening at her intensity.

"He’s my brother, too, Mouse," he says quietly. He dons his bucket. He salutes her. "As you say, Commander Tano."

XXXXX

Croft looks to the east. Thousands of Z'ambique natives are milling in front of him. It is as if their puppet strings have been cut.

He turns to Jute. The Sergeant had brought about fifty more troopers to supplement the couple of dozen of his commandos. Looking back he could see a line of buildings across a wide plaza. A battalion of droids was on the other side, advancing steadily. "We need to slow them down, Gregor. I think that’s going to be my job."

"Nope."

"What do you mean, nope?" Croft asks darkly.

"Just what I said. It's our job to cover you, Croft, not the other way around."

"Oh no, my lad. I will go."

"Goddamnit, Bard," Gregor explodes, "you’re in charge of this whole operation. It’s not your job to sacrifice yourself to cover these men. We know how much you care, but you owe it to the rest to accomplish this mission."

"I don't intend to sacrifice myself...."

Gregor shakes his head violently. "We’ll need you to lead us out of this. That is when we need you to use your Jedi stuff - to get us out of here."

A wise voice resonates in his head. _You must listen to them, my young Padawan. This is one of those moments that you will hate, but you must listen to them._

Croft is silent. "Metalhead, Spanner, Took, Longarm! You're up!" Gregor says

The four clones run up. "We need you to cover our retreat and delay the clankers. Ideas?"

"Lots of things that go boom, Captain," Metalhead, the Weapons Sergeant says.

Spanner, the lead demo trooper looks at the buildings. "We can bring those down in front of the clankers. They'll have to head to the north where the buildings are more dense."

"Metalhead and I can pop them with the Z-6 and my rifle. It might be enough of a bottleneck to slow them down," Longarm, the lead sniper says.

Croft speaks up. "Couple of things I see wrong with this. One, our demo element is going to be in danger of blowing themselves up with those buildings. Two, you two won't have any cover, to escape."

"What is your point, Commander? That this is a hazardous job? We've known that since we were uncorked."

Took, the other demo trooper speaks up. Croft is amazed, as he has never even heard the explosives expert speak. "The Republic needs this hole for some reason. It will need its Jedi to hold it."

Croft looks at the ground. He can hear the marching droids growing closer. "All right. But as soon as I can, I’m coming back for you."

"We know that you will, Commander."

XXXXX

Took and Spanner can see each other as they string together grenades and other assorted instruments of destruction. They look at one another as they hear the sound of marching metal feet closing.

They have connected at least a dozen building in their chain. Spanner gives a cry as a blaster bolt strikes him in the chest. He falls. Took screams and kills the droid that struck Spanner. The two batch mates look at one another.

Took runs over to Spanner and takes him up. He starts to pull his brother away to the east. A blaster bolt strikes Took in the back. He falls. Through their pain, they manage to pull their buckets off of their heads. Their eyes meet as Took encircles Spanner with his arms. Spanner takes his brother's hands in his. Enclosed in both of their hands is a shiny metal grip. The watch as the droids come closer to them. They can hear the ones behind, as well. Spanner starts to gasp a countdown from three.

They feel nothing as the toggle is pushed.

XXXXX

Ahsoka hears explosions to the west. She increases her pace, moving out ahead of her troopers--many who are wounded. She rounds a corner and nearly runs into Croft. His lightsaber comes up, then relaxes.

"I thought that I told you to get our wounded out of here and take command of the remaining forces."

"Nice to see you, too, Hunt-Brother," she says, her own eyes flashing.

"Ahsoka, I’m not joking. I gave you a goddamned order," he says.

"And I followed it to the letter. Drop is convoying our wounded to the rest of the blocking forces. He’s using commandeered local transport. I gathered these troopers to come back to help you."

She notices his stricken expression. "Where’re the rest of your commandos, Bait?"

He turns from her. Gregor looks down at her. "They stayed behind to delay and disrupt the clankers, Commander. We've lost contact with them."

She looks at the remaining troopers. She walks over to Croft and puts her hand on his back. She takes a deep breath. "Taliesin, I’m sorry."

He turns back. She can see his expression. "Come on, Runt. Let's go."

His soldiers obey, leaving four of their number behind.

XXXXX

A cyborg watches as his remaining droid companies traverse the destroyed buildings. His new commando droids had overwhelmed the two clone snipers. Two snipers who had managed to wipe out an entire company of B1s before they were dispatched. His holocomm beeps. It activates to show his commander.

"General Grievous, our orders may be changing. The little Republic frigate is putting up a stiff fight. My Lord informs me that we may be leaving this little desolate rock."

"As you say, Count Dooku. We have the clone forces on the run, I would like to slaughter as many as I can before we leave."

"An admirable goal, General. Do your worst. Also, there are at least four Jedi on the planet. A Master, a Knight, and two Padawans. You may not be able to get to the Master and Knight, but please make sure that you take the heads of the Padawans."

"Their skill may be beneath me, but I will be pleased to add their lightsabers to my collection," the Kalleesh cyborg says in his raspy voice."

"See that you do. Especially the human one. My source says that his Master, the Togruta is not there; these two disrupted an operation of mine before the war on Corellia. I would at least see him pay."

"Yes, my lord."

XXXXX

Croft, Ahsoka, and the remaining commandos jog through the streets. They are not accosted by the locals, who steer well clear of them.

Tocque, the insurgent leader is half-carried, and half-dragged though the streets. Ahsoka runs ahead and scouts, before Croft can stop her. She is running out of sight. He swears, and activates his comm. "Ahsoka, get your ass back here. Right now."

"Give me a second, Tal. I hear something up ahead."

"Ahsoka!"

He hears her breathing on the comm. "Just as I thought, Bait. We have a column of clankers coming in from the North. They'll cut us off."

"Okay, Runt. Get back here."

"Bait, I have an idea, but you're not going to like it."

_That goes without saying._

**Eastern Outskirts of the City  
1100 hours (Irene + 7)**

Ahsoka looks at the approaching column. She stands alone as they approach. As she thought, they were sticking to the road. The droid commander signals a stop.

"Halt, Republic dog," the droid says.

She says nothing, merely looks at the droid.

The droid stares at her. She doesn't flinch, she doesn't move. Her lightsaber remains sheathed.

The commander signals an advance.

_Just like I thought you would. Stop, then move right where I want you._

_Right there._

She ignites her blade. The droids stop, but their commander continues. She charges him and slices him in half. Screams of mechanical fear are heard as they begin turning and running into the company behind them.

The droids begin to fall as her troops break out of hiding and open fire on the droids' flank.

The droids begin firing, but without guidance from the tactical droid that she has dispatched, their confusion is rampant. As she blocks bolts back into the mass, she sees Croft and the remainder running behind her.

She signals her troops to move behind her and retreat to the east. She continues to block bolts as she crabs sideways towards a small building in the clearing. She continues to block the fire of the remaining droids.

_A lot less fire._

As she continues to move around the building, she sees more droids have moved in front of her troops.  _Dammit_ , she thinks. She turns to face them. Her troops have moved past her and to the south to join up with Croft.

These droids look different. They aren't moving or firing en masse. She sees one of the strange droids lift a missile launcher to its shoulder. Her eyes widen. She is still blocking energy bolts. The droid fires the missile.

She feels an incredible warmth around her body, as something grasps her and pulls her forward. She feels and hears the explosion of the missile behind her on the building that she was standing in front of.

The concussion tosses her forward as if she is a rag doll. She grunts as her left side impacts on rubble. Her head is struck below her left montral.

As her head hits the ground, she sees a series of explosions destroy the droids in front of her.

She turns her head to her right, just in time to see a strange, multi-armed monstrosity stab Croft in his side.

A warm feeling moves over her as darkness overtakes her. She is aware of a new sensation - her newly-established training bond with her Master moving into her unconscious.

_Master--Croft--watch over him._

She hears the strong voice in her head reply. _Shhh, Snips. Obi-Wan has him. He’s still alive._

She feels the warm humor. _Don't worry, we saved the day._

As she retreats deeper in her mind, she hears herself snort.

**Separatist Space  
Separatist Battleship _Malevolence_**

Dooku contemplates the stars. He hears the cyborg trundle up behind him. The Kaleesh's gait sounds different. He turns. Grievous is missing one of his legs.

Dooku narrows his eyes. "I had heard that the pup of a Padawan had bested you, General, but I didn't believe it."

A series of squeaks precedes the General's reply from his damaged vocoder. "If the Republic reinforcements had not arrived - Skywalker and Kenobi, I would've had his head, my lord."

"No matter. My lord has decided to abandon the planet. The Republic is abandoning it, as well."

"I have another task for you, General."

**Takodana  
Present Day**

Ahsoka falls silent as Covenant finishes his story of his battle with Grievous. Tears fall freely as he recounts how he had cut one of the legs off of the cyborg, after shutting up his rasping voice with a blow to the vocoder.

Her tears.

"If you hadn't Force pulled me from under that wall, I would still be there,  _ie'ar_.

The man once known as Taliesin Croft notes yet another tense in her phrase.

A formal mixed with the affectionate.

_Beloved._

_Cyare._

He moves up to where they lie face to face. For a moment, they  receive air only from each other. He touches her face, wipes her tears.

"How many of your commandos survived?"

"Only nine out of the original twenty. Ten if you count Alpha."

"I don't," she says tersely.

"Three quarters of the 332nd was gone. The commandos continued to cover their brothers in the 332nd until the 501st and 212th arrived."

"Tang of the 332nd and Gregor of the commandos were the only officers to survive."

She smiles. "Don't forget Drop, Bryne. I have a sensation of being carried by him. Anakin told me he insisted. Rex was right next to him."

Covenant smiles, as well. The smile freezes and vanishes.

Ahsoka touches his face. "You saved as many as you could, _Baa'je_. You kept your promise. You went back for Metalhead and Longarm—the two that you could find. You brought them to their brothers."

His green eyes--those eyes that have looked in and through her since she has known him. Those eyes that looked at her differently for the first time over nerf steak in a pirate galley--track downward.

She raises his chin to bring those eyes up. "Hey, General. You survived. You brought as many of your brothers with you as you could. You brought a little pain-in-the-ass Padawan out alive, though a little dented."

She touches his face. "A pain-in-the-ass who desperately wants to make love to you. To feel alive."

Her lips move to his. Her hands grasp him. She rolls on her back. As his fingers move about her core, as she pulls him to her, she puts all thoughts of the past behind her.

They have more stories, but not for the moment. They live in the present.

They live for those who can no longer.

Except in their memories.

 

 


	12. The Happy Century

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Today only the person who no longer believes in a happy ending, only he who has consciously renounced it, is able to live. A happy century does not exist; but there are moments of happiness, and there is freedom in the moment.
> 
> Ernst Junger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all who have read.
> 
> Some of the scenes depicted in this chapter have been told in a slightly different way in To the War is Gone, chapter 2. Particularly a certain Knighting ceremony mentioned here.
> 
> Thanks to Merfilly for the idea of Murder Ball.

**Coruscant  
Corellian Senator-Observer's apartments**

Shaak Ti gazes on the Coruscanti sunrise; the brightening light filtered by a haze of pollution and particles in the cool air. She can feel the breeze playing across her skin.

She sips the caf that she has prepared. She smiles as she hears a gentle snore from inside the small room.

Her smile freezes as she thinks about the coming morning at the Temple. The growing rift between she and Mace Windu. Over many things, but manifested this week in his obstinance when it comes to her Padawan. Her brilliant, creative, compassionate Padawan.

_Yes, I know that I can add sarcastic, cynical, unserious, and prone to excessive experimentation with his fellow apprentices. And naval officers. And government officials. And others...._

_In short. A Corellian._

But the skill as a Jedi, as well as a leader, had led him to save a major campaign for the Republic. One of many, but one that was centered around a major resource. A resource that could save countless lives.

Both Obi-Wan Kenobi and his former apprentice, Anakin Skywalker had given the credit to Taliesin for the success. They had also told Ti that Croft's actions had saved Skywalker's Padawan--a young woman who had proven herself a brave and fearless Jedi-in-training.

Her eyes darken. She knows that Taliesin had felt every death like a thousand cuts of a lightsaber. His clone troopers--both the commandos and the troopers of her own beloved 332nd would follow him through every one of those nine Corellian hells he is always going on about. And follow him right back through, laughing and singing while they did.

_The Warrior Bard, indeed._

The pain leaves her eyes as she hears silence in the room behind her. Or near silence. She hears an almost purring noise coming from the bed. A smile flows onto her features, as she thinks about how different her life has become since she met Dani Faygan. She smirks as she looks down at herself.

_Three months ago, I would almost certainly not be standing naked on a balcony this close to the Jedi Temple and Senate complex._

She turns and walks through the open door. Dani Faygan is stretching, the sheet pooled around her waist. The purr grows into a groan as she completes the stretch. Her eyes open languorously. She smiles as she sees Ti standing in the door. She beckons with one finger. Her smile grows devilish, as Ti has seen it grow many times. She walks over to the bed and knees her way across it. Dani's arms circle her waist as the Jedi reaches down and kisses the younger woman.

As they break apart, Dani takes her cup of caf and sips at it. She nods approvingly. She places the cup by the bed. She pulls Ti to the bed beside her. Ti relaxes.

"Credit for your thoughts, love," Dani says.

Ti smiles against the smooth skin. "They're not worth that much, _ie'ar_ ," Ti replies.

"Let me guess. Mace Windu."

"Your perception does you credit, but you really shouldn't talk about him that way, Daaineran."

"Maybe you shouldn't have that look on your beautiful face when you think about him, my fierce one," Dani retorts, "and maybe your signature in my resonance shouldn't ooze how disappointed you are with him."

_Damned empaths._

Shaak is silent. Dani busies herself by running her lips over her lek.

The Jedi Master calls upon years of centering to keep her thoughts from straying. Finally, she speaks. "Today, I‘m going to formally ask the Council to allow Taliesin to be knighted."

Dani stops, the excitement and joy open on her face and in her voice. "Shaak, that is wonderful! He deserves it so much. I know I've been around him only a little bit, but he is so powerful and good."

Shaak's smirk can assuredly be felt at the Temple. "Oh shut up. I don't just mean at that,” Dani says with a sheepish grin.

Dani grows serious. "Is there a chance that they won't go for it? Even after all that he has accomplished in the war? The price that he‘s paid?"

Ti is silent. "I don't know. I want to say that there will be no debate, but I know Mace. He doesn't hate Taliesin; he just feels that he is undisciplined and reckless."

"From what I've heard, Anakin Skywalker makes Taliesin look like Master Windu. They knighted him," Dani says.

Ti nods. "They really had to. He and Obi-Wan survived an encounter with a powerful Sith Lord." Her eyes narrow. "How do you know so much about Jedi business, little girl?"

"You'd be surprised at what a smile and a drink will get you, Master. Especially with the HNN governmental affairs reporter. The one who has the Jedi beat. What?” she says at Ti's look. "I am a trained intelligence agent."

"Yes, I know. But please be careful. You could get thrown off of the planet, or worse, charged as an agent of a foreign government. This is wartime. There‘s no telling what could happen."

Dani looks into Ti's eyes. Purple-black meets the violet of a powerful huntress. "I’ll be careful, Shaak. I promise," Dani says. She brightens. "So how long do you have before you have to be in the rancor's den? Thought I might take your mind off of it.

Ti can feel the empathic resonance building with Dani's desire. She feels the warmth spread throughout her body.

The morning sun brightens. It adds to the light in the room.

 **Jedi Temple  
Later that Morning**  

**Much later...**

Ti opens her eyes. She looks at Windu and her fellow council members. She rises, walks to the center of the Chamber. Much like a petitioner would. Or a Knight or Padawan being examined.

_Hopefully not found wanting._

Yoda smiles kindly at her, his ears moving slightly. "Something to ask of us, Master Ti? Please. Speak your mind."

She takes her breath, exhales. "Masters. I formally request that my Padawan be allowed to take the Trials of Knighthood."

There is silence. Windu and most of the other Masters are unreadable. Yoda's face is warm, understanding.

But beyond that, he reveals as little as anyone.

Windu looks as if he is going to speak.

Shaak feels her feet locking to the deck. _Who says that the student cannot teach the teacher?_ She pauses, as she sees a gamut of emotions and thoughts flow over the Windu's face.

His eyes firm. He looks at her.

Slowly, he rises and walks over to stand next to Ti. He faces the rest, taking them all in with a glance. "Masters, you all know how I feel about Padawan Croft. I feel that he is undisciplined and disrespectful to authority. I stand by my vote to expel him with Baldrick." He pauses. "At least at the time it was made."

Shaak's jaw drops, her eyes wide as she dissects the statement.

"In the past year, I 've seen something from him. Something I would have never thought possible, especially with that indiscipline."

His eyes remain inscrutable. "I have seen growth. Growth as a Jedi. As a teacher. As a student." Shaak sees a tiny bit of light in the dark eyes. "As a person."

"He has taken every assignment that we have given him and accomplished it. Even though," at this he smirks, "he has accomplished it with the same indiscipline and disrespect as always. I realized something the last time he stood here, as I watch him fight not to say something when he disagreed with us on the Corellian question. Especially after I have had time to reflect and meditate."

Another pause. "He may be disrespectful to the Council, but he is not reckless. He is completely respectful to the tenets of what this Order was founded upon. Even when he disputes this Council's interpretation of them."

There is a murmur among the Council. Yoda leans on his Gimer stick and listens.

"In this last challenge," he looks at the floor. "He has taken an impossible situation and has succeeded with courage and in a way that has brought great credit upon him." His face tightens. "He succeeded at great cost. But I know from Master Obi-Wan’s report that he felt every death; that every move he made, he made with eyes wide open as to the cost. He came up with a plan that even though it seemed that it went against our tenets, in the end it embodied them with its respect for the lives of his troops."

He closes his eyes, as if centering himself. They snap open and look at the Council.

"That is why I cannot support Padawan Croft taking the Trials of Knighthood."

Ti's face darkens with thunder at his words. There is shock among the Masters after his monologue. Except from Yoda. He is smiling and nodding.

Windu allows the murmuring to continue for a brief few moments. "Rather, I submit that he has already passed his Trials."

Shaak's eye lock on the Master.

"Explain, Master Windu," Master Rancisis says.

"I would be glad to, Master. I am a traditionalist, as you all know. I am not in favor of relaxing our standards." At this, Ti smiles. "However, we are already surrounded with darkness. The war is already taking a toll on us. We’ve seen one talented Padawan raised after fighting a Sith Lord and surviving. Another young Padawan is recovering from a grievous wound to her flesh and her spirit after the loss of the others in her close age group."

Ti's eyes drop as she thinks of Elle and her losses and what she has overcome.

Windu continues. "We‘ll need all of our talented Padawans. Unlike Skywalker, Croft has not faced a Sith Lord. He has, however faced tests that mirror all of the Trials and has succeeded."

Windu takes a deep breath. "First, the easiest. The Trial of the Flesh. We‘ve all joked about and participated in a slightly out-of-Code exercise every time that Croft went on a mission." He looks around the room. Most Masters are not meeting his eye, except for Yoda. ‘In spite of the injury tally, Croft has continued to succeed in everything that we give him. In this particular mission, he and his troops had to deal with the challenge of not being able to move without a coughing fit, according to Master Kenobi. They and the reinforcement battalions will have to undergo another extra round of bacta therapy, both as treatment and as a prophylaxis for Kenobi and Skywalker's troops. This is over and above what they‘ll need for any injuries they have incurred. In spite of this and of his wounds, Croft and his troops succeeded in holding Z'ambique for the Republic." He sighs. "He incurred more wounds--probably his first deep wound, other than a cut, from a lightsaber."

Windu looks at Croft's Master. His tone softens. "I join Master Ti in hoping this would be his last." She looks up and into his eyes. Their look of understanding mirrors in their eyes.

"This leads me to the second Trial--the Trial of Skill. We all know of his prowess with a lightsaber and with the Force--especially those arcane Shadow skills. We know his ability with the Hunt on his Master's world, as well as his ability to teach."

He takes all of them in with his eyes. "But this last test of his skill is probably the most telling. We know how many Jedi have lost their lives to this monstrosity--General Grievous. The numbers are told by his collection of lightsabers taken from dead Jedi, even in this short period of the war."

The grief among the Council members grows palpable. "For the first time that we know of, a Jedi has survived an attack. He was wounded, but his lightsaber remains with him. In fact there are reports that the cyborg was slightly damaged during the encounter with Croft." Windu does not pause. "The third Trial is that of the Spirit. This can be exemplified in many ways. His service above self in the care of a Padawan placed under his protection, his sacrifices for his troops, to make their lives mean something. This is the essence of what being a Jedi is. I don't think that any in this room can question his courage. Master Ti has told me, that in addition to his confrontation of the Separatist cyborg, Croft has exhibited courage in any battle that he enters. He is not reckless, but even if there is a slightest chance of success, he will engage. Even if it means getting hit by an aircar, pursuing a Sith acolyte."

There are chuckles at this.

"But his courage is also exhibited in the courage of his convictions. His willingness to stand in opposition even to this Council if he feels we are straying. I believe his Master is the example for him in this." He turns and smiles at Ti. "Even though this is an infuriating trait for those who bear the brunt of this 'courage,' it’s a trait that we should actually foster." He bows to Ti.

"The final Trial is that of Insight. This is a somewhat amorphous construct, this Trial. We can all touch the Force. We have varying degrees of connection with the Force. I believe that Croft has shown his ability to combine his use of and connection with the living Force with other skills--skills that have been taught to him by his Master." His eyes lock with Ti’s again. For the first time, he looks down, if only for a breath. “I have made no secret of the fact that I have not always seen the efficacy of training non-Togruta, or even Togruta Jedi in the traditions of the Hunt."

Ti nods. He continues, "But I may have to re-think this in certain instances. Padawan Croft's insight into both traditions and the resource of a skilled, if young, huntress, were the edge that was needed in locating what we thought was a highly shielded Force user. It is to Padawan Tano's credit that she was willing and able to use these skills. Again, it is also a credit to Master Ti and her training and mentoring of both of these young ones."

As he finishes, he avoid's Ti's eyes, as her look of gratitude is unbearable.

Ki-Adi-Mundi speaks up. "These are excellent points in Croft's favor, Master. However, I am loathe to create any 'shortcuts' to Knighthood. We all have seen exceptional Padawans who have failed at their Trials. It is the will of the Force that they failed despite their skill. The Trials are designed as a final test of demonstrated skills."

Windu can feel Ti tense beside him, as they see Mundi and Koth, as well as others nodding in agreement. "Yes, Master Mundi, I would tend to agree," Windu says. "However, I believe that these are exceptional circumstances. But," he looks squarely at the Council, "this isn't an exception to the Trials. I believe that I have articulated how Croft's last few weeks in combat have met the five Trials."

There is low conversation among the Masters. Ti's impatience is palpable. She feels a calming hand on her arm.

She notices that Yoda's eyes have opened, where he has been listening. Conversation trickles away.

He looks around the room. "Spoken here, many truths have been," he says. "Our method of the Trials have been time tested." He looks at the Cerean Master, nods slightly. He turns his attention to the middle of the chamber. "Many truths you have spoken Master Windu, from a surprising perspective. But one fact there is that you have left out. One that touches all of the Trials."

All attention is riveted on the small Master. "A task we have given young Croft that has not been given in recent memory. Left him on his own, we have, to accomplish tasks suited to a Knight. Without supervision of a Master or even support of a Knight." His bright eyes look at Koth, who is about to speak. "Say you will that there have been Knights and Masters present, but in the first instance, the Master had no say in Croft's actions and in the second, the Knight and Master supported him and reinforced him," he says, as he sees Mundi about to say something, this time. "Exceeded our expectations he has in all we have asked. In command of this mixed group of clones, in the relief of his Master on Geonosis, in his patient assistance in healing young Padawan Jaquindo, and in his uncovering of a darker conspiracy with the remote use of the Force."

There is silence at Yoda's words. "Then I believe," Master Gallia says, "that the only thing left is to schedule his knighting ceremony."

Windu says. "That may have to be done remotely. They will remain on Z'ambique for another week or two, to stabilize the planet. They will then head to a RMSU for the mass treatment of the respiratory ailment. There is one just coming online that will be able to handle three battalions.

"Which units will be replacing them?" Adi Gallia asks.

Windu looks at her as he sits. "None. We are abandoning the planet."

The low murmur starts to build. Windu cannot meet Ti's eyes.

"What about the minerals?" Ti asks incredulously. "I know that the rescue of Jabba's son solved the hyperspace route issues, but we still need that mineral for effective medical treatments."

"Found another source, we have," Yoda says. "Asteroids in Wild Space, are rich with it. Almost made of it, they are. Secured them for the Republic's use we have."

Windu continues, "We have figured a way to move them to facilities we are building for the extraction and refining. The Ministry tells us that we have enough of a supply to last until the facilities come on line."

He falls silent. He can feel the emotion coming from Ti. "So everything that Taliesin and the others fought, bled, and died for is basically being abandoned."

Windu sighs. "I know, Shaak. But we don't know if we can hold Z'ambique. We need any troops that would be used to garrison for more campaigns in the Outer Rim. It is the reality."

She closes her eyes, thinking of her soon-to-be-former Padawan's pain--his own, and for his troops. _Is this what we are going to have to face for the rest of the war? Fighting and dying for some rock, only to see it abandoned for political or strategic 'necessities'?_

She finds that she cannot answer the question to herself.

XXXXX

Shaak Ti makes her way out of the Temple. As she reaches the last stair, she realizes that she is limping. She sits on a bench located in a small ornamental garden. She senses the strong presence of Mace Windu. She looks up and smiles. He walks over and sits next to her. He notices her rubbing her leg. She stops; lets the pain flow.

"What’s the matter, Shaak?" Mace asks. "It’s nothing. Just a strain."

His eyes lock on hers. For a moment, she thinks he will challenge her. Finally, he looks away.

"What made you change your mind, Master Windu? About Croft's knighthood?"

Mace is silent as he contemplates the golden flowers in the garden.

"I took a look at him through your eyes. I recalled every argument we have ever had about him. I recalled your defense of him and Baldrick during their tribunal. I opened myself to the Force." He pauses. "I remembered another Padawan. A young man who had a great deal of indiscipline--even anger. I saw a lot of him in Croft. Passion yet serenity.” He looks away, off in the distance at a stardestroyer rising in the sunlight. “A few Masters took a chance on that young apprentice."

"He stands before me, doesn't he, Mace?"

"You are too perceptive, Shaak."

He smiles. "There is one difference. I was never a smartass. He corners the market on that."

Shaak laughs. "Yes, he probably gets that from me, a bit."

"I would not disagree."

"Mind you," Mace continues, "I think that he is still a smartass and he is still undisciplined; I will continue to hold him accountable in any way possible. But I recognize his potential and his power.” His eyes harden. “If you tell him this, I will deny it until my dying breath."

"Your secret is safe with me, Master," Shaak says.

Mace rises. He bows to Ti, she rises and returns the bow. Mace takes her hand and shakes it.

"When do you return to Kamino?"

"In a few days. Still have some things I am trying to find out."

He nods, soberly. "Let me know if I can do anything."

"I could use some assistance. Since I will soon be Padawan-less, I would appreciate Elle Jaquindo being assigned to me."

"I think that this can be arranged, Shaak. I'll speak to Yoda."

"I'll see you before you leave, Master Ti."

"I will count on it, Master Windu."

As he turns and walks up the stairs, he glimpses out of the corner of his eye, Master Ti walking towards a beautiful red-skinned young woman. He sighs and shakes his head.

**Takodana  
The Present**

Covenant hears the shower turn off as he finishes shaving. They had started off in the shower together; he had given her some privacy after making sure that her back was clean.

As well as other hard-to-reach places.

As he washes the shaving cream residue from his face, he glances at himself in the mirror. He eye catches on the scar on his right side. A jagged scar from a cyborg's lightsaber. A scar from a wound in which he thought that he would not survive. If it hadn't been for Skywalker's and Kenobi's relief, the Separatist would have slaughtered him.

His hands move over the three gouges on his belly. He shakes his head at the narrowness of his escape in both instances. As he had relayed Ti's version of the debate of his knighthood to Ahsoka, he had thought about his Trial of Skill. Yes, he had survived Grievous, but it was mainly due to the intervention of outside forces.

Ahsoka had brought him down from his self-deprecation. "Bait, you fought him to a standstill. Yes, he ran because of the two battalions coming in, but you held him off long enough for them to get there. Stop doubting yourself."

He feels cool hands on his shoulders as he looks into the mirror and sees a pair of brilliant blue eyes gazing at him over his shoulders. He turns around and takes her into his arms. Her hand traces the scar on the ribs, her nails scoring lightly.

She dips the fingers of her other hand into the three gouges. "Lucky I had love handles for that one," he snarks.

She shakes her head. "Smartass. You were all muscle when you were with the commandos. Something about having to keep up with their workout regime. Stubborn Corellian."

She smiles as she dips her head and brushes her lips and tongue over the rib scar. She moves to the triple blade scar and repeats her kiss.

She looks up into his eyes as she pulls his shorts down slightly. She bends further and her cool lips play over the jagged scar on his hip. She moves to the center and kisses him. She doesn't linger, but raises up as she watches him twitch. She pulls her toweled form close to him and rests her chin on his shoulder. Her lekku move contentedly.

"Wish we didn't have to go, _ie'ar_ ," she says sadly.

"I know, _cyare_. But we both have things we have to take care of."

She nods. Both of them had received separate comms requiring their immediate attention. He to Corellia; she to the Outer Rim to fix her 'idiots.'

He had not shared why he had to go; she didn't ask.

They both turn to leave the 'fresher. She notices that he is favoring his left leg.

"What happened?" she asks. "Did you hurt yourself?"

"No. Just getting old."

"No, seriously, what did you do?"

"Had a disagreement with a trooper about a ball."

**Republic Medical and Surgical Unit 3  
The Past**

Newly-Knighted Jedi Taliesin Croft surveys the array of troops in front of him. He looks at his 'allies.' He starts to crab and dodge sideways has he runs to the objective.

A 501st trooper collides with him. Croft easily blocks him and keeps going. The ball is tucked under his arm as he runs. He can feel his teammates from the 332nd blocking other 501st troopers.

Teammates if only for the moment. If it is advantageous.

As he runs, he thinks about his new command. He and his surviving commandos are to be folded into the 332nd. As they were all ARC trooper or above, they would serve as the cadre of officers and senior NCOs for the reconstituted battalion. The dead troopers of the battalion would be replaced by ARC troopers.

An all-ARC trooper battalion. A unique experiment. A battalion-sized unit that could be used for unconventional and asymmetrical warfare against the Separatists.

He is brought back to the present as a juggernaut hits him at the legs. A 501st trooper, an ARC with a '5' tattooed on his head seizes his leg and twists. Croft manages to hold onto the ball as he kicks the trooper in the face. Fives, as he is known, roars and twists even harder. Croft somehow keeps his feet. He starts to drag the trooper with him. He can feel the sharp pains as his knee protests the punishment. Other 501st troopers approach at high speed to pile on. His fellow troopers of the 332nd block them. He grins as he sees Drop clothesline Rex as he approaches Croft's flank.

He is approaching the goal. Fives is still attached, limpet-like to his feet. The 501st man gives a final twist. He feels something give in his knee. He pulls the trooper and the ball across the finish line.

The 332nd goes wild....

"You are so full of shit Covenant," a laughing voice says. "That's not how it happened and you know it."

'Yes, hell, it was, Runt," he protests.

Maz Kanata watches in the present day. She smiles at the back-and-forth.

"For one thing, Fives wasn't even with the 501st for several months. He wasn't even an ARC trooper for awhile." Her laughter rises. “You just don't want to admit that you got your ass kicked by a little girl. A little girl who took the ball from you and scored."

"A little girl who had a pet giant clone on my own team who betrayed me for those woeful blue eyes."

"Yeah, well. He did try to pick me up and shake the ball from my hands near the goal line."

"Until you kicked him in the balls and went on in to score."

"There are no rules in Murder-Ball, Bait. No loyalties, either."

"I don't think he ever trusted you again, Runt."

"Yeah, but Elle showed up just after I left the RMSU. I’m sure she made them better. Just as I think Captain Sloane took your mind off of the boo-boo on your knee and made it all better."

"That and another two days in bacta."

They both smile at the memories. As always, the smiles turn bittersweet.

Maz rises from her chair, as she sees their expressions. She takes a hand from each of them in hers. "I’m so glad you got to spend most of your full time here, loves. I treasure your time here. I have enjoyed watching you spend time together."

Her eyes track to the ground. "I‘ll miss you both. Please, always know that you have a place here, to lose yourselves in each other. I love you both. Be careful."

She embraces first one and then the other. She whispers endearments in each ear or montral.

"We love you, too, Maz. Thank you for everything," Ahsoka says. "I especially thank you for letting me stay here as an extra base," she finishes.

"Anytime, babe." She turns them around and swats both on their ass. "Go now, before we have an unseemly scene. May the Force be with you both. Always." She turns without a further word and walks away from them. Not looking back.

Covenant takes her hand in his. They turn and make the walk to their ships.

They pause at his ship. Ahsoka looks the worn veteran of the past. An Eta-2 Actis interceptor. She remembers balancing on the cockpit of one as she prepared to jump and save her Master.

Just before her world crashed down.

She moves closer to him. She glances down at his gunbelt. She realizes that a tooth - a tooth that he had taken on his own hunt, many lifetimes ago - is missing. He sees her look. He shrugs.

She touches his lips with hers. They meld, their tongues exploring. When they break apart, she looks into his eyes.

She sees the warmth, coupled with many other undefinable somethings. They kiss again and are lost in one another.

A raspberry comes from her Aethersprite. They both laugh. "Take care of her, Arseven," Covenant says. "She’s precious to me."

Her eyes tear. Especially at Arseven's binary reply.

_+She is precious to me, as well, Meat.+_

Covenant rolls his eyes at the new nickname.

"I guess we have to go, Tempest," the operative known as Fulcrum says.

"I guess." They stare at one another. Their breathing in sync.

She watches his fighter climb into the air and rotate. It is soon out of sight.

She climbs into the cockpit. She primes the engines, as she moves her hand back from the control, she sees a bright object.

A gold chain, hanging from the console. At the end of the chain, a small tooth. A tooth that looks suspiciously like one that was missing from a Corellian's gunbelt.

She smiles as she lifts it. She feels its warmth; she closes her eyes. She imagines that she feels a tiny bit of a buzz in the Force.

She opens her shirt, and hangs it next to another talisman. One given to her by a crew of pirates, led by their powerful Captain.

The tooth rests between her breasts.

Its warmth rests against her heart.

 

 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Past is Prologue](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8416045) by [B_Radley](https://archiveofourown.org/users/B_Radley/pseuds/B_Radley)
  * [The First Annual RMSU #3 Master of Sass Contest](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8513827) by [B_Radley](https://archiveofourown.org/users/B_Radley/pseuds/B_Radley)
  * [Rats](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9911093) by [B_Radley](https://archiveofourown.org/users/B_Radley/pseuds/B_Radley)




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